


☆ 30 Day OTP Challenge ☆

by AngieOwlie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Animal Ears, Arguing, Baking, Battle, Birthday, Bookshop, Cosplay, Costumes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Eye Contact, Fluff, Formalwear, Gaming, Genderbending, Hanging Out, Holding Hands, Hot Springs & Onsen, Humor, Ice Cream, Kimono, Love, M/M, Making Out, Making Up, Marriage Proposal, Mornings, Owls, Pets, Rollerblades & Rollerskates, Sharing Clothes, Spooning, Surprise Kissing, Valentine's Day, probably full of cliches XD;;
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 19,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieOwlie/pseuds/AngieOwlie
Summary: Hand holding and soft kisses are just the beginning.30 days of otp prompts, switching between Thorki, Haddotin, and a sprinkle of Johnlock.**Now completed! Thank you everyone for reading and following along :D🌸✨✨
Relationships: Archibald Haddock/Tintin, Loki/Thor (Marvel), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 69





	1. Holding Hands (Thorki)

**Author's Note:**

> Been eyeing this for a while and thought I'd try it out! ^^ I honestly couldn't just choose one otp haha so the drabbles will switch between Thorki and Haddotin (with a bit of Johnlock sprinkled here and there), so feel free to jump around and choose from the chapter index! :) [ Challenge taken from Fanlore~](https://fanlore.org/wiki/30_Day_OTP_Challenge)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki is comforted by his brother on nights of thunderstorm._

Late one night, with the wind howling and the rain cascading in floods, thunder roared and shook the earth. But inside the Asgardian palace, warm and dry, two little boys huddled in their bed.  
  
“Thor?” whispered the younger one, who had hair the colour of midnight and eyes that shone like the luckiest clover. “I’m scared.”  
  
The older one grinned and hugged him close. “Don’t be afraid, Loki. Here, hold my hand. It’ll be okay. The thunder is our friend.” As if by words of magic, the outside world suddenly calmed to a low rumble.  
  
Loki snuggled against his brother, feeling safe with his hand wrapped in Thor’s protective hold, and drifted off into quiet peace.  
  
  
  
  
  
_—Several years later—_  
  
  
  
  
  
“Don’t be afraid, Loki. Here, hold my hand!”  
  
A pause in the dark.  
  
“Thor.”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“Would you please explain why you decided to barge in and leap onto my bed, and now all of a sudden I’m holding your hand?”  
  
“There’s a thunderstorm outside, and I thought—”  
  
“Oh in the name of all nine realms, you idiot, that was _a thousand years_ ago! Not to mention you are getting crowned tomorrow—”  
  
“Please, brother? Just once more?” Even in the dark, Loki could sense his oafish grin.  
  
He grumbled. “Fine. Have it your way. But go to sleep, you’ve a big day tomorrow.”  
  
“Yes, of course. Good night, brother.”  
  
Silence settled into the room.  
  
Rustling. A flash of silver—  
  
“OW! _Loki?!_ Did you just—” There was a grunt, followed by the sound of metal clattering to the floor.  
  
Loki smirked, but still his hand did not let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In other words: what really happened the night before Thor’s coronation._  
>   
>  Thank you for reading! :)💕


	2. Cuddling Somewhere (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Tintin and Haddock enjoy a picnic._

“—and I must say, Captain, this is quite delicious,” said Tintin, around a bite of waffles. “Wherever did you learn how to bake?”  
  
Haddock beamed. “My family has got hundreds of years of recipes. Seafaring isn’t the only thing they passed down, you know.” He took a swig from the bottle. “And it’s a jolly good thing they left it all at Marlinspike.”  
  
“Indeed, Captain.” Tintin settled his empty plate next to his legs on the checkered blanket. A light breeze flew by, ruffling his tuft of ginger and shaking the branches of the cherry blossom tree overhanging them, flower petals flurrying like gentle snow. “Should you decide to try something else from your family’s recipe, Captain, I’d be delighted to have a taste of anything made from your hands.”  
  
At this, a rush of heat crept up Haddock’s neck. “O-of course — of course, my boy. I shall see if I can’t have something made for tonight.” He cleared his throat. “How is your report on Peru coming along?”  
  
Tintin yawned and laid down on the blanket, arms behind his head. “Almost finished, Captain. I was up all night piecing together the story and by tomorrow, I’ll have it sent off.”  
  
“Ah, excellent. Which reminds me...” Haddock returned the bottle to the basket and he, too, lay down. “Do you remember the market where you spotted the _Unicorn_ from?”  
  
“Yes, of course.” Tintin rubbed his eyes. “What about it?”  
  
“Well, the other day I happened to pass by — and what do I see? A quaint little bookshop, just across the street from the market! And I said to myself: surely Tintin would like to have a visit. And I, well...” Haddock rubbed the back of his neck. “If— if you want to, of course...we could perhaps set up a day and— Tintin?” He glanced over. “Blistering barnacles, lad, are you alright?”  
  
A quiet snore softly greeted him. And then the lad turned in his sleep til he was almost resting against Haddock’s chest, as if a puzzle piece fitting in where it rightfully belongs.  
  
Haddock’s eyes widened for a moment before closing into a content sigh, and he laid an arm over Tintin and tucked him close.  
  
“Another day, then,” he whispered, and brushed away a petal on Tintin’s face.


	3. Gaming/Watching a Movie (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the snap brought back Loki, and the two are now living happily ever after in New Asgard._

“—that’s it, brother, you’re doing wonderfully! But can you handle _this?_ ” Thor smashed a combo on his controller, whooping with triumphant. Outside, rain continued battering against the window; it had been pouring all morning, and the sky was a blur of grey and sorrow.  
  
“Honestly, Thor, was this how you spent your days after Thanos wiped out half the universe?” Loki jammed his thumb into a button but wasn’t fast enough to bring up defence, resulting in a punch from Thor’s player. He growled. A nerve had started pulsing in his head and he was dangerously close to throwing the controller at the thing called “tee-vee” and then chucking the whole ridiculous thing at Thor.  
  
“It wasn’t so bad, really.” On screen, his player side-stepped from a dagger in his opponent’s fist. “And besides, it wasn’t as if Thanos left me with anything to- to live for—...each day...anyways...” He stopped. His player followed suit.  
  
Loki pressed another button and the game paused. He rounded on his brother. “You know, I had meant to say this earlier but...” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. About everything. Truly, I am. I shouldn’t have taken it when we left Asgard. And if I had known what it would bring us—” He shook his head. “Since the beginning, the Tesseract has been synonymous with death and destruction, and I only wanted to—”  
  
“No, brother, it wasn’t your fault.” Then — in a voice that somehow always managed to gently squeeze his heart whenever Thor went on to stubbornly defend him, as he always did whenever Loki _was_ at fault but he refused to believe in anything but his brother — “It could never be you.”  
  
Loki stared at the screen, unwilling to meet those eyes.  
  
“After Hela was defeated and Asgard destroyed, at least I had you,” said Thor, “and for a moment everything was fine — but that’s all it was.” A sad smile graced his face, and he looked out the window. “Just a fleeting moment.”  
  
By now, the rain had drizzled to a stop and the dying clouds parting away. A message appeared on the screen, asking if they wanted to continue.  
  
“Well, brother,” Loki reached over and placed a hand on Thor’s cheek, pulling him back until he could look into those mismatched eyes, “I’m here now, aren’t I?” And he leaned in to seal the distance between their lips.  
  
When they broke apart, Thor looked all too willing to carry on kissing for the rest of the day, but Loki seized the chance to quickly unpause and — in one strike — completely KO’d Thor.  
  
Through the window, the first ray of golden light streamed in — and the sun, in all its divine glory, was shining down on them, at long last.


	4. On a Date (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Haddock takes Tintin to that quaint little bookshop._

“Oh, Captain, this is wonderful! Why, I think I could stay here all day if I could.” The bell tinkered softly behind them as the door swung close.  
  
There were books lined up on oakwood shelves, books on the floor, in stacks on the counter, piled high on chairs, and tottering on stools. Mismatched rugs in shades of sunset spread out beneath their feet, and a sleeping cat lounged on top of the till. Other than a giggling couple in front of the romance section, a young family of four by the picture books, and a fellow in a red suit gazing thoughtfully at the _Not for Sale_ antiques behind glass, the shop was fairly quiet.  
  
Against the dimness of dusty floor lamps planted around the place, Haddock watched as Tintin floated from one collection to the next, like a honeybee greeting each sweetly flower of a garden. Haddock couldn’t help but curve his mouth into a smile as he watched Tintin leaf joyously through book after book. It always warmed his heart seeing the lad completely lost among books. Many a times he would catch him in an armchair in front of the fire at Marlinspike, lost within the pages of a story. He liked seeing this side of Tintin, the way his eyes would light up and his face broaden into the happiest of delights.  
  
“Captain, look — here’s one that might interest you: _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_ — I suspect it’s a highly adventurous tale.” Tintin held up another. “ _The Beginner’s Guide to Disguise and Deception_ — hm, we might have to hold on to that one for the Thompsons.” He tucked them under his arm, then moved to a stack on the window sill.  
  
“Here’s another: _Canine Companion_. Oh, I wonder if it offers advice on overcoming the fear of spiders? And, hello, what’s this...” Tintin pulled out a small volume with a cover of pure white. “I say, it’s a book of recipes for wedding cakes. I suppose it could be useful one day when—...” He paused. Even under the glow of the soft lighting, Haddock saw two spots of blush blooming across Tintin’s cheeks. “When— when the time is right...I imagine.” He put it back.  
  
Haddock quickly took the chance to busy himself with straightening up a nearby shelf and pretend he didn’t hear. Truth be told, a copy of _Wedding Cakes and Delights_ was already at Marlinspike, hidden away in Haddock’s room the day he first happened upon the bookshop and had peeked in for a look. Since then, he had been studying the delicate forms and texture that went into baking a multi-layered cake, and he hoped that, when the time came, he would be able to present it before the one person for whom the ceremony was dedicated to.  
  
So lost was he in his daydream of a possible future that it took Haddock a moment to realize the sound of shattering glass, followed by alarmed shouting.  
  
“—stop! Someone stop that thief— He’s getting away—!”  
  
Haddock turned just in time to glimpse the fellow in red streak out the door with a voluminous book clutched under his arm, but not before catching sight of the man’s familiar pince-nez and small pointed beard.  
  
Haddock’s eyes widened. “Th-thundering typhoons— Tintin, was that really—?”  
  
But Tintin was already dumping his stack onto the counter and grabbed Haddock’s arm. “I’m afraid so. Sakharine must’ve escaped, and now he’s searching for other treasure and causing trouble again. Come along, Captain, we must hurry— There isn’t a moment to lose!”  
  
And Haddock shook his head, suppressing a grin as he allowed himself to be tugged out the shop, wondering how in the seven seas did trouble always seem to find Tintin wherever he went, but knowing that, even so — Haddock would always be there following in his footsteps and being a part of his story, no matter the chapter they were currently on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> This was sort of based on my own experience where I once found an old, musty, rug-covered little bookshop on a corner of a street close to where I live (with the exception of encountering a theft - although that would've been very thrilling), and I told myself I would go back one day but I never did, and it's been so many years now, I wonder if it's still there at all...


	5. Kissing (Johnlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Sherlock acts his usual cheeky self, much to no one's surprise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my very first time writing this ship haha, so apologies if things still need improvement~ XD;;

Another day, another case. This time, the incident involved something called the Devil’s Foot.  
  
John had warned him not to pull an all-nighter seven days straight, but Sherlock had brushed him off with a bored, _I don’t need sleep; sleep is a waste of time._  
  
_And yet,_ thought John, hands on his hips as he stared at the sleeping form now passed out on the couch, _you’re only human after all._  
  
He crossed the room and shut the curtains, hiding away the last of the evening sun, then found a blanket and tossed it over Sherlock.  
  
He checked his phone, relieved there was still time to pickup some milk and Hobnob, and started pulling on his jacket.  
  
He was about to start down the stairs when a groan from the couch sent his attention veering back.  
  
Sherlock must’ve shifted in his sleep, because he was now hanging dangerously over the edge, and in one more heartbeat, he would surely—  
  
John’s military instincts kicked in — and in one fell swoop, managed to catch most of Sherlock in his arms.  
  
Against Sherlock’s mumblings about Mycroft and his stupidness, John rolled him back onto the couch.  
  
He was about to stand and leave — but the sight of Sherlock’s face, so close to his own, caught in John’s throat. He leaned in and brushed back a curl, gracing his finger down Sherlock’s temple to his jaw. The usual creases cornering Sherlock’s eyes have smoothed out during sleep, and the stern lines around his mouth seemed to have softened. Sherlock looked so much like a child, so much at peace. And before he could tell himself this was a bloody stupid idea, John pressed down a kiss.  
  
Immediately, Sherlock grumbled and started muttering again, to which John quickly adjusted the blanket and tiptoed out the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
_—The next day—_  
  
  
  
  
  
“Oh, good morning, John.”  
  
John had just come downstairs when Sherlock stood up from where he had been sitting, cross-legged with a cuppa, against the Union Jack cushion. “There’s a bit of tea left, I think,” he waved towards the kitchen as he set his own down onto a pile of documents, then reached for his coat. “Otherwise, you can call Mrs Hudson to make you a fresh brew.”  
  
_“Not your housekeeper, boys,”_ floated up a weary voice.  
  
“Right, uh...” John furrowed his brow. “Sorry, where are you off to?”  
  
“They need me down at the scene again,” Sherlock rolled his eyes as he looped his scarf in place. “Said there must be more clues other than the ones I’ve already told them, the idiots.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, ‘course. But are you sure you don’t need me to..?”  
  
“No, it’s fine. It’ll only be Lestrade, thank God.” He clasped John on the shoulder, then breezed towards the door. “I’ll be back by lunch so we can discuss the facts again. I’ve a feeling things are starting to come together now, and— oh, before I forget—...” Whirling around, he reached for John, and — as he leaned in, cupping John in his hands and smirking smugly, he silenced John’s oncoming gasp with a soft brush of lips.  
  
“This is for last night,” he said quietly, tossing John a wink. And with another whirl of his coat, Sherlock disappeared down the stairs.  
  
John stood, blinking. _Last night? What happened last..?_ Heat filled his cheeks as his eyes widened. “Sherlock!” He grabbed the railing and yelled downstairs. “For God’s sake, Sherlock Holmes!”  
  
But by then, the front door had already closed on 221B Baker Street.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the Milanese Nightingale pays an unwanted visit to Marlinspike Hall._

“How are you feeling today, Captain? Any better?” Tintin handed the Captain a glass of water before settling down onto the chair beside his bed.  
  
“Aye, the fever went away, but now I’m left with a blistering, blundering head—” He broke into a fit of coughing, then took a drink from the glass. “Curse this wretched flu! Once I’m back on my feet, I’ll show ‘em that nothing can stop Captain Haddock!”  
  
“Easy, Captain, easy. I’m sure with some proper rest, you’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time.”  
  
The Captain brought his hand up for another drink. “Aye, and this time, I’ll make sure that I—  
  
 _DING—! DONG—!  
  
_ The sudden boom of the doorbell jolted the Captain into splashing half the glass onto his beard and nightshirt. As Tintin and the Captain looked at each other, confusion mirrored in both their faces, down below, by the entrance of Marlinspike, a woman’s voice drifted up into the room, lilting in a sing-song tone. “Ohhh Hammock! My dear, sweet boy. I’ve heard word that you’ve fallen deathly ill, and I’ve come to pay my regards!”  
  
The Captain’s mouth gaped open as panic filled his eyes. “It’s— it’s her!! It’s Castoroili! What in the blazes is that woman doing here?!”  
  
“Relax, Captain.” Tintin patted him and made to stand. “I shall go and explain that you’re in no state to be seeing anyone today—”  
  
“No, no! Tintin! That would make the creature all the more desperate.” The Captain shook his head furiously. “No, you must make her believe I have already recovered. You could—... you could...” His eyes landed on a pile of blue at the foot of the bed. “Saltwater jellyfish! That’s it! Here, lad, take this and put it on—”  
  
“Wait, Captain—”  
  
“—and over there on that table, you’ll find my hat,” the Captain pointed excitedly, “and I’m sure with some leftover disguises from one of our adventures, you’ll be able to add a beard and perhaps a pair of sunglasses, and — there you have it! Captain Haddock at your service!” He sank back onto the pillow, looking extremely pleased with himself.  
  
Tintin looked at the sweater, then at the Captain, and sighed. He knew how much of a burden, even one of purest intentions, the Signora’s presence always brought upon the Captain.  
  
Flashing a defeated smile, Tintin began removing his shirts and tossed them onto the chair. “I do hope this works, Captain...”  
  
  
  
 _A moment later..._  
  
Adjusting the beard one last time and feeling comforted by the Captain’s sweater, which was actually hanging onto him quite snuggly, Tintin took a deep breath and opened the grand door. “Ah, Bianca Castafiore!” He tried his best to imitate the Captain’s deep voice. “What a pleasant surprise! And to what do I owe this unwanted— I-I mean, unexpected visit from y—”  
  
“Oh, come here, my darling angel!” And before Tintin could decline, he found himself tightly squished inside her arms. “I heard the most dreadful news that you were bedridden, dear Peacock, and I came as fast as I could!” She clapped Tintin on the cheek. “Tell me, poor baby, has my room been kept clean? I shall settle in at once and give you the utmost care—”  
  
“Th-that’s quite all right, madam,” he said, detaching himself and straightening up. “As you can see,” he gestured, “I have recovered magnificently, and I shan’t trouble you any further with—”  
  
The Signora peered at him. “Did the flu cause something to your brain, dear friend? You seem awfully polite today.”  
  
“Ah, that—” Tintin chuckled nervously and hurried to correct himself. “Madam, I am asking that you leave this instance. I do not require your services, and I do not wish for you to—”  
  
“Oh, nonsense, Dumbstock. You need a lady’s touch if you were hoping to restore back your complete health. And look—” she held up two bulging bags, one in each hand, “I brought my finest teas and herbs to assist your recovery! Now, be a dear and show me to my room, won’t you, Padlock...”  
  
“Madam, please, I really must insist—...”  
  
  
  
 _Meanwhile..._  
  
“Blast that woman. Why can’t she leave me alone? I don’t need _her_ , of all people, when I’ve got Tintin. Pah! I do hope he’s giving her a piece of him right now. Oh, and look here, I’ve got to go and change out of these wet things...” But no sooner did Haddock rise from his bed, a wave of dizziness caught up to him and he fell right back onto the mattress. “ _Blistering barnacles in a thundering typhoon!!_ This is all her fault!” Grumbling, he opened his mouth, ready to shout for Nestor, when his eyes caught on a heap of white and baby blue left on the chair beside him...  
  
  
  
 _Downstairs..._  
  
After finally reassuring the Signora that all was fine and that, no, he really did not need to be looked after, and, yes, he promise to send for her should anything else happen, Tintin at last shut the door to Marlinspike, and exhaled in relief.  
  
As he started pulling off the sunglasses and making his way towards the staircase, eager to let the Captain know he needn’t worry anymore, the sound of footsteps drew near — and before he could explain that it was him, Tintin, borrowing the Captain’s clothes, Nestor asked:  
  
“There you are, sir. May I ask: now that you are feeling better, would you like me to prepare the ingredients for another trial of wedding cake?  
  
Underneath the disguise, Tintin’s brows came together in confusion. “Wedding cake...Nestor?”  
  
“Yes sir, you asked me to order enough ingredients for practicing ten more cakes, in case they failed like the last few times.”  
  
Tintin blinked. “Oh, um...perhaps not today, Nestor. I would like to go back to my room now and, erm...lay down for a moment.”  
  
Nestor bowed. “Very good, sir,” and he headed back towards the kitchen, leaving Tintin alone in the entrance hall, feeling rather perplexed, but also extremely warm, and extremely loved.

* * * * *

When he returned to the room, the Captain sat up in bed and beamed. “Tintin, you did it! I heard dear Catastrophe give you everything she’s got, but you, my boy, you handled her like a pirate faced with danger!” He settled back down and closed his eyes, a triumphant smile on his face. “Now I can recover in peace.”  
  
Tintin couldn’t help but pull his own mouth into a grin as he set the disguises onto the table. “Oh Captain, you old sea dog. We haven’t seen the last of her yet, you know.”  
  
The Captain waved it off. “Another problem for another day.”  
  
“And hopefully by then, you’ll be back to yourself, and much more capable of—” Tintin glanced around the room. “Captain, have you seen my clothes?”  
  
At this, the Captain’s eyes blinked open. “Y-yes, um, about that...I needed a change of clothes from earlier and, well, yours happened to be right next to me so...” He pulled back the blanket.  
  
It took Tintin two heartbeats to collect himself. “Oh. Oh, of course. That’s quite alright, Captain.” He never imagined the day he would see the Captain in something as light as baby blue, but — still, it looked rather dashing on him. “I-I was also going to...”  
  
 _...You asked me to order enough ingredients for practicing ten more cakes.  
  
_ “Yes, Tintin?”  
  
Tintin glanced down. “Captain, if you wouldn’t mind...” All of a sudden Tintin’s voice had gone very soft. “I’d like to wear this, just for a little while longer because, well...it’s very nice and...” He blushed. “It feels as if I’m wrapped in your embrace.” And Tintin all but ducked inside the turtleneck.  
  
There was a moment’s pause where all the Captain did was stare at him, a tint of red coming across his face, and then, without warning, flopped onto the pillow, seemingly passed out.  
  
Tintin hurried to his side, shaking gently and touching his forehead.  
  
“Captain? Captain! Oh dear...” Opening the bedroom door, Tintin called downstairs. “Nestor, please, come quick! The Captain, he’s— he’s run another fever!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :D
> 
> Originally I had intended for these to remain bite-sized but...somehow this one just kept getting longer and longer AAHHH anyway, hope it was enjoyable nonetheless! So far it might just be my favourite one yet XD


	7. Cosplaying (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sort of an anime AU (?) in which Peter Parker is a high schooler in Japan and needs the help of two more people for his school’s Cultural Festival Day._

“Thank you so much for agreeing to help, Uncle Thor!” said Peter, pulling Thor into the classroom. All around, his classmates were dressed in black and white, and serving food and drinks in the makeshift cafe. “I know it was super short notice, but we really needed two more people—”  
  
“Hey, it’s alright, Spider-Peter.” Thor nudged him playfully on the shoulder. “My brother and I were passing through Earth for a visit, anyway.” Peter watched as he patted his suit admiringly. “This Earthern garb is quite nice, actually. What did you say my role was again?”  
  
“Oh, uh, yours is the butler one.” Peter glanced back. “But where’s Uncle Loki?”  
  
“Hm?” Thor turned. “Oh, Loki, you can come in.”  
  
And Loki, dressed from head to toe in a maid outfit, looking ready to tear off the skirt, set fire to it, then murder everyone in the entire school, appeared in the doorway. “Just _what_ is the meaning of this?” he hissed.  
  
Peter ducked behind Thor. “W-well, we didn’t expect so many people would be coming today, Uncle Loki, so we needed more people to come and help—”  
  
“This is ridiculous! _I_ look ridiculous! And you—” He jabbed a finger at Thor. “When you said we were visiting Earth, this was _not_ what I had in mind!”  
  
Thor laughed. “Relax, it’s only for a couple of hours. And may I just say,” he leaned in, eyes drawing up and down Loki, “that you look _ravishing,_ brother.”  
  
“Um, Uncle Thor...your nose is bleeding.”  
  
Thor wiped a hand across his face, but his eyes never left Loki.  
  
Loki inhaled sharply, his face turning as red as the blood, though whether from embarrassment or fury, Peter couldn’t tell. “It will hurt no less when I kill you in this form.”  
  
A mischievous glint played at Thor’s lips. “Anything you do in this form will be welcomed, brother.”  
  
Peter’s eyes widened as he looked away. “Okay, wow, yeah. Um, I’m just gonna go over there and help out with taking pictures...” He started backing away. “Remember, all you guys have to do is just stand by the door and greet the guests. And Uncle Loki, please don’t kill anyone, okay?” And without waiting for a reply, he hurried away into the crowd, but not before hearing Loki say to Thor, “...still, I must admit, black will always look marvelous on me, even if only half of me is covered at this moment.”  
  
  
  
 _One week later..._  
  
Peter was on his way to school when he received a message from Thor, asking if Peter could send him the pictures he took that day.  
  
Which was how, a few days later — Thor found himself with a dagger in his side, as Loki obliterated the picture of him in the maid outfit that had been discovered sitting in a picture frame on the night stand in Thor’s bedroom.


	8. Shopping (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Thor wanders off to the mall pet shop and decides he wants to raise — not one, but two Earthen fur babies._

“Alright, I think we have everything we came here f— Thor? Oh, where the hell did that oaf run off to now?” Loki jammed the shopping list into his pocket and glanced around the mall. They had come to pickup some Earthen food for the Avengers reunion tomorrow, though why Thor thought it would be a good idea to invite Loki along, he didn’t have a clue.  
  
Loki frowned as he scanned the crowd, trying to pick out that familiar head of cropped hair — when, three shops down, there came a familiar boom of laughter.  
  
Stalking over, grocery bag in hand, Loki heard before he saw — a mix of barking, meowing, chirping — and realized, to his distaste, it was a shop for Earthen animal companions.  
  
He found Thor in a corner, sitting cross-legged — an animal trainer beside him, and — caressed in his massive arms, there was a small bundle of fur in each hand.  
  
Loki crossed his arms, foot tapping impatiently, and it wasn’t until the trainer got up to help a customer, causing Thor to look up, did he finally notice Loki. “Ah, brother! Look what I have here!” He held them out proudly. “Earthen puppy and kitten!”  
  
Loki raised an eyebrow and shifted his gaze between the happy, panting one that reminded him of his brother, to the irritated ball of black fluff.  
  
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I know what you’re going to say—”  
  
“Oh, brother, I knew you’d like them—”  
  
“—and the answer is _no._ So put them down, it’s time we headed back—”  
  
“But, but—...just look at them, Loki. They’re so soft, and cuddly, and warm—”  
  
“ _No,_ you idiot. There is no way I am running after and taking care of these, these— _hairballs_.” He shook his head, muttering, “Especially since I’m already stuck with one.”  
  
“Brother, _please?_ Look how much they want to come home with us,” said Thor, eyes pleading, not at all unlike the puppy in his arms, whose tongue was hanging in excitement.  
  
Loki scowled and glanced at the kitten, who looked awfully dwarfed in Thor’s large hand, and just about ready to swipe him across the face and escape from his arms.  
  
That brought a quirk to Loki’s mouth. For a moment, he and the kitten stared intensely at one another, neither making a move, until finally, the kitten yawned and let out a small purr.  
  
Loki turned back to Thor. “Fine,” he huffed. “Fine! We can keep them. But in exchange, I am _not_ attending tomorrow’s reunion.”  
  
Thor whooped with triumphant, and went off to find the animal trainer.  
  
And that was how Thunder and Mischief became the newest members of the Odison family.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki sneaks off to spy on the Avengers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Hope you guys have been enjoying these drabble-y fics so far :D 
> 
> Just wanted to give a heads up that today's prompt will sort of tie-in with tomorrow's a little bit, heehee.
> 
> Okay bye!

Loki was bored. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was beginning to miss Thor. And so, against his better judgment, he sneaked off to spy on the reunion at Stark Tower.  
  
After he and Thor had parted ways at the mall yesterday, Loki had taken the two hairballs and brought them back with him to Asgard. It had only been a day since they parted, and although he would much rather stab himself and fake his own death than say it out loud, he wanted to see Thor again, and — alright, he wanted to take a peek at the Avengers, too.  
  
And now, as he hurtled through the Bifrost, a smirk on his face, he felt for the two animal-eared headbands in his pocket. He had been experimenting all morning on animal transfiguration (definitely not because it helped to pass time so he wouldn’t be thinking about Thor), and had used Thunder and Mischief as assistance. He had taken a pinch of their fur and changed those each into a pair of ears; not his most stylish creation, of course, but things were still in the experimental stages. Ideally, the wearer would put them on and transform back and forth at will, but for now, depending on which one was used, the wearer would remain in their chosen form for one hour before being able to transform back.  
  
For this particular... _event_ , Loki decided to go with the kitty ears. As he neared the end of the portal, he put them on, felt himself shrinking and sprouting fur, then — dropping out of the sky, he landed on tiny paws on top of Stark Tower.  
  
 _Ah, yes._ Loki flicked his tail, then rolled over, testing out his new form. His eye caught on the kitten reflected in the glass window, and — apart from two golden streaks of fur on his forehead that curved like horns, he was an exact replica of Mischief.  
  
He stood a little taller, admiring his sleek black fur, when the sound of his own name snapped his ears to another window.  
  
Slinking over, careful not to make a sound, Loki peered down.

* * * * *

“...as you know, Loki and I have our differences,” said Thor, dipping a nacho into Cheese Whiz, “but he is still my brother.”  
  
“Yeah, um...I don’t think murderous tyrants should really count as brothers anymore,” said Bruce, weakly.  
  
“Not to mention the guy _completely_ ruined my play space,” added Tony, popping a blueberry into his mouth and gesturing around, “which, by the way, took me only two days to rebuild.”  
  
“Thor, look, we get it, you guys grew up together,” said Clint, setting down his glass, “but forgive me if I say that the next time I see him and an arrow flies into his eyeball, it wouldn’t be an accident.”  
  
Nat laughed. “Barton’s just disappointed he didn’t get to beat up Loki the way Bruce did.”  
  
Bruce’s ears turned pink. “Uh...thanks?”  
  
“Well, for a guy who was stolen and adopted as a baby then had it kept a secret his whole life, you have to admit his motives weren’t surprising.” Steve quickly held up a hand upon seeing Tony open his mouth. “Not saying he had a right to attack New York, just pointing out why he did it.”  
  
Thor leaned back onto the couch. “I don’t blame you all for speaking the truth. And the fact is, the more I think about it, the more I’ve come to realize Loki really is, that he’s really just...” Thor fiddled with a loose thread in his cape. “He’s misunderstood. By me. Our father. Everyone.” He sighed. “Growing up, he was always the quiet one, the smarter one, and I suppose I never really considered his feelings for having to live in a place that valued strength and brawn above knowledge and magic.”  
  
“And trickery,” said Clint dryly.  
  
Thor stifled a grin as memories of his childhood flitted across his mind. “If you guys ever come to know him as I do—”  
  
“Which will be, uh, let’s see, _never_ —”  
  
“Tony, Thor’s having a moment right now—”  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry, Cap, I thought he was only having twelve percent of a moment—”  
  
 _“Guys.”  
  
_ “...sorry Nat.”  
  
Thor reached for another nacho. “I know he may seem like a threat and he acts like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, but I know in my heart, that deep down...my brother is kind.”  
  
Steve nodded. “I believe you.”  
  
“Wait, are we talking about _kind_ as in...kind of a dick?”  
  
Thor chucked the nacho bowl at Tony, and as the room erupted into laughter — far above their heads, against the glass window, none of them noticed a small black cat padding away.

* * * * *

When Thor returned to Asgard, he found Loki reading a book with Mischief curled up on his lap.  
  
“How was the reunion?” Loki asked without looking up.  
  
Thor took off his cape and draped it over a chair. “Fine. Everyone had a good time. They laughed at my jokes, the way you never do.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sure they were just putting up with you.”  
  
Thor crossed his arms. “You really are the worst brother, you know that?”  
  
Loki shut his book and got up, the sleeping kitten in his arms, and smirked. “What? And I thought you said I was kind?”  
  
And before Thor could fully realize what Loki had just said, Loki pecked him on the cheek, and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Later that day, as Loki went to retrieve the animal ears and continue experimenting his magic, he discovered that — somewhere along his journey to Earth, the pair of dog-shaped ears must have fallen out of his pocket, for it was nowhere to be found._


	10. With Animal Ears (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Haddock accidentally finds the pair of shape-shifting dog ears and puts it on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* The two of them really need to just get married soon :')
> 
> Edit: Although these drabble-y fics are meant to be standalones, this one does tie-in a little bit with the previous one. Sorry for any confusion;; 😅

It was a fine grey morning at Marlinspike Hall.  
  
Haddock had just finished checking up the car and was making his way back to get Tintin when he tripped on the lawn.  
  
“ _Thundering typhoons,_ what did I—? Oh, it’s one of Tintin’s disguises, I reckon. But how does he wear it?” Brows furrowing, he picked up the strange, curved object that seemed to have a pair of makeshift dog ears attached to the top. “Perhaps it goes on...like this?” No sooner did it fit onto his head, a sudden burst of warmth spread throughout Haddock’s body and he found himself shrinking.  
  
Smaller and smaller he went — until, in his place, there now stood a small golden retriever.  
  
_Blistering barnacles in a thundering typhoon — what in the blazes happened?_ Haddock stumbled and splashed into a puddle, where he saw a wild-eyed dog looking back. He backed up, and the dog did too. He peered down, and the dog mirrored once more. All at once, panic started rising in his chest and his head started spinning—  
  
“Captain! Captain, where are you?”  
  
From where he stood, Haddock saw Tintin calling for him by the open French doors where they so often dined. He opened his mouth, ready to reply with _Tintin, Tintin! Look here! I’m over here!_ But all that came out was a string of “arf! arf arf! arf!”  
  
“How strange, where could he be? We were supposed to leave now...didn’t the Captain say he had someplace important to take me?” And as Haddock watched, Tintin started closing the door, but not before Haddock made one more attempt and bolted across the lawn, barrelling straight into the house.  
  
“Great snakes! Where did you come from?” Tintin bent down.  
  
Haddock approached the lad, pawing at his knee and trying desperately to somehow let Tintin know it was him.  
  
“Have you lost your way, little friend? Oh, look how dirty your fur is...” Snatching a towel from the counter, Tintin began drying him all over. “You must have wandered off on your own, didn’t you? A puppy like you ought to stay close to your master.” He wiped at Haddock’s furry face, careful and gentle around his eyes and nose. “I say, there’s a patch of black fur under your chin here! Why, it looks almost as if—” He laughed. “It almost reminds me of the Captain’s beard.”  
  
Hearing the lad call his name, Haddock went up and licked his cheek, trying once more to let Tintin know that it was him, that he was really here. But Tintin just continued patting him down.  
  
“You know, sometimes I feel as if the Captain himself acts like a puppy,” Tintin smiled, shaking his head at the memories. “He often lets his feelings take over and becomes rather excited and attached to things.”  
  
Haddock barked, and tried to raise an eyebrow in protest.  
  
“Oh, I don’t mean that in a bad way, little friend. In fact,” Tintin put down the towel, gazing thoughtfully at a crate of Loch Lomond in the corner, “I very much enjoy seeing Haddock smile.”  
  
All of a sudden, the air in the room felt very different, as if someone had turned up the dial and all the colours became brighter, more warm, and softer around the edges. And such as it is, being a well-known fact that dogs have ears capable of being attuned to the most brilliant of sounds, when the lad spoke his name, which was rare in occurrence, the sound echoed inside of Haddock, ringing as a melody that was quite like happiness and quite like heartache.  
  
Tintin stood and draped the towel over a chair. “I’ve known for a long time that the Captain hides it away, underneath the drinking and bellowing. He doesn’t think I know, but often times, I’d catch him along the halls, staring at portraits of his ancestors, bottle in hand and mumbling about disappointing his family name...” Tintin paused.  
  
Down on the floor, Haddock stayed planted in spot, not sure if he trusted himself to approach the lad at that moment.  
  
“But you know,” said Tintin, bending over and scooping Haddock into his arms, “the Captain is a good man, the best of all of us. He may not see it for himself, but I hope he realizes one day. And until then,” Tintin smiled and bopped Haddock on the nose, “I shall stay by his side always, and do my best to give him a reason to smile every single day.”  
  
Just then, outside the room and down the hall, Nestor’s worried voice called for Tintin, asking him to come at once, for the Master has disappeared.  
  
Tintin hurriedly set down Haddock and made for the door, but not before calling back with a _Stay put, little friend! I shall return soon and help you find your way home._  
  
And yet, half an hour later when Tintin finally came back, he was surprised to find a teary Haddock standing in the room, eyes welling with all the things he wanted to say but could not find the words to, as he launched himself at Tintin and took the lad into his arms.


	11. Wearing Kigurumis (Johnlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the two wear matching costumes for the sake of catching a criminal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cries* I am so sorry I am terrible at writing Johnlock... 😭

“—alright, fine, have it your way, but why the hell do _I_ have to wear one too?”  
  
“It’s all part of the plan, John.”  
  
“ _What_ plan?”  
  
Sherlock put down the binoculars and sighed, exasperated. “The plan to catch the murderer. _Ob-_ viously.”  
  
“Oh, right, yes. The murderer who happens to be hiding at a family Easter carnival where there’s security all around.”  
  
Sherlock ignored him and brought up the binoculars again. “All the clues point towards this exact location, John. He’s already poisoned five people, and today will add a sixth if we don’t hurry.”  
  
John pulled doubtfully at the fluffy tail on his behind. “And you think wearing these...bunny costumes is going to help, _how_ , exactly? And where did you even get them?”  
  
“I got them off Amazon—”  
  
“I’m sorry, _you_ use Amazon?”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry, I used your card so they wouldn’t track me—”  
  
“You did _WHAT?_ ”  
  
Stuffing the binoculars into a pouch on his costume’s front, Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and pulled him out from behind the wall of artificial haystacks. “Come along, John, we haven’t got all day to discuss your easily guessable passwords.” And he swept them into the crowd.  
  
All around, families with face-painted little children snacked on popcorn and hot dogs, playing games and petting farm animals, and lining up to take photos with the Easter Bunny.  
  
As they made their way through the crowd, John following Sherlock’s fluffy white form, he couldn’t help but feel ridiculous and out of place. His own cotton-candy pink fur was doing absolutely nothing to ease his mind, and yet...  
  
John glanced at his friend.  
  
...knowing Sherlock, his plan would surely succeed. But first, John needed a drink to cool himself down from the sweltering costume.  
  
Spying a beverage booth, John started making his way over. “Sherlock, hang on, I’ll just be a moment...”  
  
“Fine,” came Sherlock’s flat tone, which — as John had come to known — was probably coupled with an eye roll.  
  
“Uh, hi, could I get one small lemonade, please,” said John, taking out his wallet.  
  
The server tapped into the register. “And would you like to choose your flavour?”  
  
John paused in the middle of counting change. “I’m sorry?”  
  
The server gestured to a series of colourful cans behind him. “Fruit-flavoured powder. A spoonful of your choosing.” He winked. “Comes with each drink.”  
  
“Oh, um, yeah sure.” John scanned the cans. “I’ll take the raspberry, thanks.”  
  
The server nodded, taking John’s coins and handing him a napkin and straw. “It will just be a moment.”  
  
While they waited— well, John waited and Sherlock continued watching the server, Sherlock suddenly whispered, “John, did you ask for yellow powder as well?”  
  
John frowned. “No. Why?”  
  
“Because,” said Sherlock, narrowing his eyes, “that man took out a Ziploc from his pocket just now and added—” His eyes widened, and before John could hold him back and tell him to think it through, there was a blur of paws and fluff as Sherlock threw himself across the counter and side-tackled the server.  
  
“Oh my God, Sherlock!” John scrambled to help, but the server had already been knocked across the head, lying still in the grass.  
  
Heaving himself up, Sherlock dusted off his hands and took out his phone. “Lestrade will want to hear of this,” he said, already texting. “He’ll be pleased to know I did the work for him. Again.”  
  
John only stared. “Sherlock, you—” He gulped down some air. “You, you saved my life.”  
  
“Oh, he was going to poison you, John,” said Sherlock, eyes on his phone. “Can’t let him do that now. Where would I be without you?”  
  
John blinked. He opened his mouth, closed, then opened again. “Did you just— Just now, you—” He cleared his throat. “Did you really mean that, Sherlock?”  
  
Sherlock shrugged, and tucked away his phone. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I? Without you, how else would we get groceries each week and split the rent evenly?” And the smile he flashed was all too teasing.  
  
In a snap, all feelings of warmth and light disappeared as John threw up his hands. “Oh, for God’s sake, why didn’t I think of that. You, the great Sherlock Holmes, with your polished cheekbones and baritone voice—”  
  
“I think I’m sensing something from you, John—”  
  
“—playing the violin non-stop in the middle of the night and doing those experiments in the microwave! Not to mention shooting at our wall and running around in nothing but a bedsheet—”  
  
And that was how Lestrade found them, moments later when he arrived on the scene, Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson, dressed head to toe in matching bunny costumes, arms waving wildly and bickering like an old married couple because heaven forbid there come a day when they showed just how much they cared for one another through the use of quiet words and gentle touches.


	12. Making Out (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki uses the royal Asgardian library for something other than reading._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, day 12 at last. *sighs dreamily~*

Loki was sitting in the royal Asgardian library, pouring over a spellbook and trying to concentrate, but all he had been doing was really just reading the same page over and over.  
  
It has been three days since he last saw his brother, who, at that moment, was somewhere on Earth visiting his lady friend, Jane whatever-her-name-is.  
  
Loki scowled and shut the book. There was no use trying, he couldn’t get Thor out of his head, not when his oaf of a brother was taking his time on Earth with that woman, doing whatever it was they were doing, very likely things Loki himself have fantasized more than once...  
  
He flushed. _Who am I to care what Thor does with whomever he chooses?_ Annoyed with himself, he stood and went to return the book onto the shelf.  
  
_And yet...what did it matter? A fantasy was just a fantasy.  
  
_ Loki leaned back against the shelf and closed his eyes...  
  
_...It was all too easy, imagining Thor was really here, how he would push Loki against the shelves and crush their lips together, how the quiet of the library, the thrill of being discovered at any moment, wrapped in the arms of his brother, made Loki’s pulse race faster than even a shooting star, as Thor brushed his lips along his jaw, dipping into his collarbone, breath hot and lingering upon his skin, and Loki would sigh, his body warming up deliciously with pleasure, the edges of the shelves digging into his back but he didn’t care, as he ran his fingers through those soft golden locks, tangling himself and pulling his brother closer, as if to say, Take me, take me as you wish, for my heart beats for nothing except unto you, who ignited my flames and set me soaring across the realms, bold and desperate, perhaps in search of a paradise where nights are long and stars never go out, for in the end, are we not but fools in this single moment, longing for something more? And Thor would answer with a tender kiss upon his cheek, as those large hands moved softly to release Loki of his garments as Thor hurried to shrug off his own, taking half a heartbeat to press Loki against the spines of books, as their lips explored one another and their hands found ways to be everywhere at once—  
  
_ BOOM!  
  
Loki’s eyes snapped open as the doors to the library flung wide. Poking out from behind the shelf, he saw a familiar flash of red followed by a cheerful voice: “Loki, are you here? I have returned!”  
  
And Loki, stalking out from the shadows towards his brother, eyes glinting with mischief and trouble and everything in between, a finger pressed onto Thor’s lips to silence his questioning look, Loki pulled his brother back into the darkening comfort between the library shelves.


	13. Eating Ice Cream (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Peter Parker regrets ever treating them to ice cream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the first idea I came up with while brainstorming for the challenge and, idk...I kinda just felt like making it slightly nsfw 😅💦

“Here Uncle Thor, this one’s yours! And this one’s for you, Uncle Loki,” Peter grinned as he handed them each an ice cream cone.  
  
It was finally summertime and Peter was enjoying his break from school, so when Thor said he and Loki were coming to visit, Peter had insisted on taking them for ice cream.  
  
“To thank you for helping out last time,” he had explained, as he lined up by the ice cream truck to give their order. Thor had chosen vanilla while Loki decided on Earl Grey. Peter himself went with chocolate chip mint.  
  
But now, strolling through the park under the hot July sun, their ice creams melting fast, Peter wished he had known what would happen so he wouldn’t have had to witness something so...awkward, for Thor suddenly noticed the ice cream dribbling off Loki’s hands. “Brother, wait—” Thor grabbed his wrist. “It’s dripping.” And before Peter could take out a napkin, Thor leaned in and licked.  
  
Eyes wide, Peter saw Loki practically stop breathing, his face reddening like a thermometer shooting up in heat, as Thor licked up the melted ice cream, tongue quick and careful as he flicked across Loki’s fingers.  
  
“There, all clean now,” said Thor, beaming as he released Loki’s wrist. Swiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb, he turned back to Peter and said, “So what was it you were saying earli—”  
  
And that was how Thor found himself with ice cream dumped upside down on his head as his brother stomped away, leaving Peter to stumble after, offering to buy another cone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And not in the least bit bothered, Thor ended up enjoying having the ice cream drip down his head, saying that, although it was rather cold, it was actually a little bit refreshing._  
>   
>   
> ...Okay that was totally not borrowed from Chris Hemsworth's line in his ALS ice bucket challenge XD;;


	14. Genderswapped (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Thor helps Loki with a potion, only for things to end disastrously._

Loki was in the middle of brewing an aging potion when Thor barged into the room.  
  
“There you are! Mother told me I would find you here.”  
  
“Go away,” scowled Loki. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” He had been trying to perfect the potion for some time now, but with no success. His mother had noticed his frustrated sighs and had suggested he experiment with some of her own ingredients; though she had cautioned — as she opened the cupboard, revealing a display of colourful vials — not to use any of the red ones, as those were rather powerful and could lead to disastrous results.  
  
“Well, maybe I can help,” said Thor, rubbing his hands together, taking in the scatter of parchment and empty glass beakers on the table. “What do you need?”  
  
“What I _need_ is for you to leave,” Loki snapped. Flipping a page in the spellbook, he continued stirring the small cauldron.  
  
Thor ignored him and moved to the cupboard. “What about...this one?” He held up a vial between his fingers. “It looks powerful enough,” and he tipped it above the cauldron—  
  
“No, stop!”  
  
 _POOF!_ Red smoke erupted, covering the room in thick smog.  
  
“You, you great big idiot, you—” Loki sputtered between coughs, fumbling blindly to throw open the door. “Look what you’ve done n—” He stopped. Why did his voice sound oddly similar to a woman’s?  
  
Loki swallowed. “Thor? Where are you?” There it was again, that voice! A wave of dread slowly crept over him as he tried again. “Thor, are you alright? Oh heavens, please don’t tell me you’ve lost an eye or someth—”  
  
“...Brother?”  
  
Loki squinted, trying to see through all the red. “Is that you, Thor?”  
  
As the smoke cleared and the room came into view, a squeaky child-like voice said: “Why do you sound like Mother..?” And Loki now understood what their mother had meant when she said the red vials were not to be meddled with.  
  
For staring up at him was a little girl with short golden hair and a confused daze. “Loki...wh-what happened?” Child-Thor twisted around to look at herself. “What have you _done?_ Did I...did I turn into a _girl?_ Is that why my voice sounds—” her eyes widened as she pointed at Loki’s chest, “By Odin’s beard, why do you have _those?_ ”  
  
And Loki looked down, finally noticing the shimmering emerald dress with a plunging neck line and — oh, a _ver_ _y_ ample view — then glanced at Thor in her miniature form, glanced back to the dress, glanced at Thor again, then — slowly, her luscious lips pulling into a smirk, lady-Loki let out a devilish laugh. “Oh, dear me, it looks as if I’ve been graced with quite the look, doesn’t it?”  
  
As Loki admired herself and ran a hand along the seductively high slit, child-Thor reached on tiptoes and managed to snag another vial from the cupboard, this one filled with purple. “I would not celebrate just yet, brother.” She popped off the cork. “Or should I say, _sister—_ ”  
  
“Wait, Thor—!”  
  
—and she spilled the liquid.  
  
 _POOF!_ Puffs of violet settled over the room.  
  
“Have we...have we changed back?” coughed a female voice. “I feel rather tall now and— Oh! Oh, in the name of all nine realms...” a teenager with hair pulled into a ponytail emerged from the smoke, hands patting excitedly all over herself. “Loki, I think this is the first time I’ve truly enjoyed your magic!” She glanced around. “Loki?”  
  
And Loki, hobbling out from the smoke, humped over with ashen hair and years of wrinkles etched into rough skin, slowly raised one knobbly finger and pointed at Thor, “You...idiot...brother...” granny-Loki croaked, “When I...get...my...hands...on you...”  
  
Teenage-Thor tapped her chin. “Actually, I think this form suits you best, _Oh-Ancient-One_ ,” she teased. But when granny-Loki moved to retrieve a dagger from inside her sleeve, Thor quickly grabbed another vial. “Alright _alright._ Let’s try another,” and she poured in a pool of blue.  
  
 _POOF!  
  
_ Coughing, Thor fanned at the smoke, then looked down, and — seeing a child’s body again, threw up her short arms. “This is a disaster!” she whined. “How are we ever going to change ba— _OOF_ _!_ ”  
  
Out from the smoke came a streak of long black hair as Thor was tackled to the ground. “This, is, all, your, fault!” yelled child-Loki as she yanked Thor’s hair and smashed a tiny fist into her cheek. “Now look at us! Are you satisfied?” She made to bite Thor’s arm but Thor flipped over so that she was now on top.  
  
“Loki, look—” She ducked from another fist. “I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have interfered—”  
  
“You really can’t do anything right, can you?” child-Loki sneered, still struggling to land another blow on Thor.  
  
That was the last straw. “Well, maybe you’re just not meant to use magic!” and she punched Loki across the jaw, sending them both rolling across the room in a messy blur of fists and shouting.  
  
And that was how, later that afternoon, as Frigga the Allmother was leafing through a book in the library — two disheveled little girls, arms crossed and not speaking to one another, approached and asked her to help change them back. And Frigga, resisting an amused smile, took them by the hands as together they made their way down to the potions room, musing quietly to herself what life would’ve been like had she raised two headstrong daughters instead.


	15. In a Different Clothing Style (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Tintin and Haddock are in Japan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a small guide to the Japanese terms used in the story ^^
> 
> [ _zabuton_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zabuton) \- a cushion used for sitting or kneeling.
> 
> [ _kimono_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kimono) \- traditional Japanese garment.
> 
> [ _tatami_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tatami) \- a type of soft straw mat used as flooring.
> 
> [ _geta_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geta_\(footwear\)) \- traditional Japanese footwear.
> 
> [ _-san_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_honorifics#San) \- an honorific giving respect.

“...truly we are forever grateful you retrieved our beloved jewel of the sea back for us,” said the Empress, gesturing to the velvet pillow beside her, a blue gem resting from its hold. “Whatever would we have done without you?”  
  
“Oh, the pleasure was entirely ours, Your Imperial Majesty,” said Tintin, bowing slightly from where he knelt on the _zabuton_. “My friend and I are honoured to have been of service to the Royal Family, isn’t that right, Captain?”  
  
Beside him, also kneeling on a squishy cushion but looking as if the position exhausted him, the Captain managed a weak smile. “Y-yes, of course. And you are most generous to have gifted us with, um...” He held up an arm clad in fine Japanese silk. “What did Your Majesty say this was called?”  
  
The Empress smiled warmly. “A _kimono_ , Haddock-san. And might I add, these look rather handsome on the both of you.”  
  
Tintin blushed and looked down at the tea in his hands. “Your Majesty is very kind.”  
  
The Empress dipped her head as she rose from her imperial seat, “It has truly been lovely chatting with you, gentlemen, however I must check upon the kitchens now and see to it that everything is being prepared accordingly for our dinner tonight. You simply must stay so we can thank you both properly.”  
  
“Oh, Your Majesty, you needn’t the trouble—”  
  
The Empress held up a graceful hand. “Please, I insist. You have done my family, and my country, an honourable service.” Nodding to the servant boy standing next to her, she said, “Please show our guests to their room where they may rest in comfort until the feast.” The Empress beamed. “I shall see you gentlemen later tonight.”

* * * * *

When they were finally alone in their room, the Captain dropped onto the _tatami_ , pulling off the wooden clogs and began massaging his feet. “Blistering barnacles, how do the people walk in these?”  
  
Tintin nodded as he admired his clothes, tracing his hand over the intricate needlework of ocean waves splashed across his _kimono_. “It is indeed a very special culture.”  
  
“Aye, but the shoes—”  
  
“The _geta_ , Captain.”  
  
“—old Captain Haddock cannot walk one more step in them — nor kneel on the floor any longer!”  
  
“Oh, Captain,” Tintin went over, bending down, and pressed an encouraging kiss onto his cheek. “You were marvellous out there, and I dare say, I have faith that you’ll be quite alright for one last evening here, Captain, before we set sail and return home.”  
  
And so, the Captain ended up sitting through the entire feast without complaint, and although he appeared to be engaged in conversation, his mind was peacefully elsewhere, thinking about all the times the lad managed to bring out the best in him, even when he himself was tired of trying.  
  
He smiled around a drink of tea.  
  
To him, Tintin would always be the real jewel of the sea.


	16. During Their Morning Ritual(s) (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the day begins with another typical morning at Marlinspike Hall._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried a different writing style today! :)

He yawns, and slowly opens his eyes.  
  
 **He yawns loudly, and rubs awake his eyes.  
  
** Reaching over, he pats Snowy affectionately, who is sleeping on the bed but peeks open one tired eye.  
  
 **Stretching his arms, he yawns again, and wonders if the new order of Loch Lomond will arrive today.  
  
** Sliding on his slippers, he goes over to the window and draws back the curtains; the morning sun, warm and pure, greeting him gently with a kiss on both cheeks.  
  
 **He gets up from his bed and stalks into the bathroom, splashes water onto his face and scowling when his shirt accidentally gets wet.  
  
** He hums a tune on his way to the bathroom and reaches for his toothbrush.  
  
 **He dries off his face, taking care to pat down his beard.  
  
** He runs a comb carefully through his tuft, making sure no strand is out of place.  
  
 **He returns to his room, tossing his nightshirt onto the bed, and furrows his brow as he suddenly remembers the cursed dream he had about a talking parrot.  
  
** He heads back to his room and changes out of his clothes, wondering if another imaginative dream will be shared over breakfast today.  
  
 **He pulls on his blue sweater, sighing a little at the memory of someone else wearing it not too long ago.  
  
** He pulls on his favourite baby blue shirt, mouth quirking as he remembers how it had once been lovingly worn by the person closest to his heart.  
  
 **He checks himself in the mirror, making sure he is looking his absolute best for the outing later today.  
  
** He makes his bed and folds his nightshirt, then does a quick round of stretches to keep himself fit.  
  
 **Satisfied, he leaves the room and heads downstairs.  
  
** Finished, he calls for Snowy and they head downstairs.  
  
 **He takes his usual seat at their dining table and begins buttering some toast.  
  
** He enters the room, eyes brightening as he sees him, and takes the seat across.  
  
And above their usual warm exchange of _’morning, lad_ and _good morning Captain, today’s a fine day to head to the park isn’t it?_ , he thinks to himself,  
  
  
_Now that I’ve moved in..._  
  
_Now that he’s moved in..._  
  
  
—the lad chuckles into his tea as the old captain waves around the butter knife and recounts his dreadful nightmare—  
  
 _...how wonderful it truly is, to be able to start each day in the company of my dearest friend._


	17. Spooning (Johnlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which John shops for a new bed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I just like making Sherlock fall asleep...XD;;

“...and over here we have our king-sized beds. They’re very comfy and _very_ popular,” the sales girl winked. “So if I were moving in with my husband, I’d pick this one for sure.”  
  
“Oh, no no—” John cleared his throat, “We’re not together, he’s just my friend; my friend who had earnestly insisted _on tagging along,_ ” he said through clenched teeth, throwing a displeased look at Sherlock, who, at that moment, was gazing with feigned interest at the bedsheets and duvets, hands behind his back, looking about as innocent as a child who had been caught eating ice cream before dinner yet refused to admit it even though the evidence was right there on his sticky fingers.  
  
Sherlock turned to the sales girl and smiled politely. “We’re here because John got married” — he brought up a hand, covering an oncoming yawn — “and went and got himself a new place, so he’ll of course be needing—”  
  
“Be needing new furniture!” The girl clapped excitedly. “Oh, do feel free to try it out and see if it’s right for you!”  
  
John looked from her to Sherlock. “Try, try what out?”  
  
“The bed, sir, to see if it’s comfortable for you and your husba—”  
  
“We are _not_ together—”  
  
“Oh, but you can still try it out! To see if it’s the right fit for you—”  
  
“I- I think that’s quite alright, thanks—”  
  
“Just get on the bed, John. For Mary’s sake, here, I’ll try it out with you—”  
  
“No no, wait—!” But Sherlock grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the mattress.  
  
“Sherlock, you—” John grumbled, squirming to get up. “Can, you, let, go, of, my, _waist—_ ”  
  
“Oh, come now, John, this isn’t the first time I’ve held you in my ar—”  
  
“Um...I think I’m gonna give you two some space,” said the girl, backing away. “But feel free to call me if you need anything!” And she disappeared behind a shelf of pillows.  
  
Once she was gone, John scowled and tried to free himself from Sherlock’s hold. “Alright, I think that’s quite enough from you. Come on, get up—”  
  
“Wait...” Sherlock yawned again, “....just...just one...more......minute......”  
  
“Sherlock, are you..? Oh, for God’s sake, you’ve been staying up working on that case again, haven’t you?” But all that replied him was a gentle snore.  
  
John sighed, defeat turning into a half-smile, as he gave in and rested his head against the warmth of Sherlock’s chest.  
  
  
  
 _A while later..._  
  
“Um...sir? The store’s closing now and we need to ask you to leave... Sir? Oh, this is just wonderful...”  
  
And the sales girl sighed and massaged her temple, wondering just what kind of relationship these two people had in order to fall asleep in each other’s arms on a public bed, here inside London’s most elegant department store.


	18. Doing Something Together (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Tintin teaches Haddock how to rollerskate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea for a rollerskating fic around a month ago ([thanks to a conversation I had with lil sis XD](https://angieowlie.tumblr.com/post/621476257816887297/last-night-lil-sis-was-telling-me-how-she-wants)) and I'm glad to finally be able to write it out and share it with you guys! :D

“—now remember, Captain, you must bend your knees to keep your balance—like this. And you needn’t worry about falling, I shall skate right beside you and catch you if you need me,” Tintin patted him reassuringly on the arm, his other still guiding Haddock gently around the waist.  
  
Haddock looked down at where his feet trembled and swayed, the wheels preparing to take off whether or not he was ready. “Are you...are you sure about this, lad? This old bag of bones isn’t as young as he used to be, you know.”  
  
“Relax, Captain, you’ll be fine. Now, on the count of three—”  
  
“Tintin, maybe I should—”  
  
“—one, GO!” And he pushed.  
  
If it weren’t because they had already practiced a few rounds, Haddock would surely have fallen right onto his face at the sudden release from the safety of Tintin’s arms; but now, against the cool spring air breezing past his cheeks, he bent his knees and tried to recall everything the lad had taught him — arms out, back slightly forward, eyes focused ahead.  
  
“That’s it, Captain, you’re doing wonderfully!” glided Tintin next to him.  
  
Haddock allowed himself a small grin; the park was overflowing with young families playing catch and flying kites and having picnic on the grass, and couples riding their bikes and walking their dogs and giggling with each other, that it was a miracle Haddock hadn’t bumped into any of them yet.  
  
He sailed down the path. “Tintin, look!” He angled his arms and performed a turn. “Old Captain Haddock is doing it! He can do this, he can do that—”  
  
“Captain, look out—!”  
  
Haddock yelped and swerved just in time to avoid crashing into a little girl who had ran in front of him while tugging her kite. “Sorry, mister!” she called back.  
  
“Billions of blistering—” Haddock righted himself and shook his fist after her. “Ruffian! Hooligan!”  
  
“Easy, Captain,” Tintin drifted to a stop beside him. “Are you alright?”  
  
Haddock grumbled and planted his hands on his hips. “Children these days! No respect for the elder.”  
  
“Oh, Captain,” Tintin laid a hand on his shoulder, “rest assured, you are still very much as young as the flowers who have just started blooming this season. What do you say we go for another few rounds before going home?” He held out his hand.  
  
And Haddock mumbled an _A_ _lright..._ before taking Tintin’s hand and letting him lead the way.

* * * * *

By the time the sky turned hazy pink and the shadows grew longer and softer, the park had started to empty, and although Haddock was panting and near exhausted and ready to head back, he couldn’t help but pull up a smile at how lovely the day ended up being.  
  
“So what do you think, Captain?” Tintin nudged him playfully as they rolled towards the exit gates of the park. “Rollerskating isn’t as hard as it seems, is it?”  
  
“Aye, it is in fact just like steering a ship! One has to stay his course and look out ahead, and turn and redirect when his surroundings change,” Haddock stated proudly.  
  
Tintin laughed. “Why, I do believe you’ve redefined rollerskating, Captain. Now everyone who hears of it will want to—”  
  
“Oops! — Look out, you two!”  
  
Both Tintin and Haddock turned just as a young couple streaking past on bikes bumped into Haddock and sent him colliding into Tintin as together, they tumbled onto the grass.  
  
“Ow, ow...”  
  
“Captain! Oh Captain, are you alright?” Worried hands felt for his face, his chest, and his arms, and waist—  
  
Haddock rubbed his head and opened his eyes. Gentle frightened ones looked up at him as he realized, with a start, he was lying on top of Tintin, and was close enough to count every beloved freckle on the lad’s face in addition to a freshly forming bruise.  
  
“Captain, oh, thank goodness! Are you hurt anywhere? That was quite a fall wasn’t it, but luckily the grass was here and—... Captain? Oh, Captain, there there...” He rubbed little circles against Haddock’s back. “Why are you crying?”  
  
For Haddock couldn’t bear it inside of him any longer and had buried his face into the dip of the lad’s shoulder, hiding away the sudden surge of emotions but knowing his tears would leave as evidence on his shirt anyway. His eyes were closed, but all he could see was Tintin, here, on the ground; Tintin, with the bruise on his cheek; Tintin, with worry in his eyes as he patted Haddock all over—  
  
“You- you...” he choked out. “Why...why must you always do this?”  
  
“Captain, I’m afraid I don’t—”  
  
_“Why must you always put me before yourself?”  
  
_ The rubbing stopped.  
  
Haddock slowly lifted himself, and saw the smallest of smiles forming on Tintin’s lips. The lad reached up and smoothed away Haddock’s hair, the tenderness of this simple act drawing from him a new wave of tears, as Tintin said simply, “Captain, after all that we’ve been through...isn’t it quite obvious?”  
  
And Haddock smiled through blurry eyes, as he brought down his head to where the lad’s heart lay beating, resting against its steady rhythm that spoke of everything between them, as another round of tears quietly flooded out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Later that evening at Marlinspike Hall, as Nestor went to inform the master and his lad that dinner was ready, he found the two snoring quietly on the couch — the Captain sprawled out across with Tintin cuddling on top, as Nestor fetched a blanket to cover them with, dimming down the lights, as he closed the door softly behind so that whatever kind of dream the two were having, it would continue on peacefully and carry them right through until morning dawned._


	19. In Formal Wear (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki is (once again) comforted by his brother because Thor is best bro._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will tie-in directly with tomorrow's prompt (dancing)! :)

When Thor and Loki were still children leading carefree lives, they often attended dinners and gatherings hosted within the palace walls, not because those were celebrated for them, but because they were part of the Royal Family.  
  
Each time before the feast started, they were dressed and groomed and made to look their best in colours of red and gold and black and green, and their mother would beam proudly as she took them by the hands, her little boys growing up so fast and becoming handsome young men.  
  
And while Thor didn’t mind having to sit through speeches and toasts and talks of adventure, often joining in with comedic imitations of his father and making the guests roar with laughter, Loki would much rather have preferred the company of a good book in the quiet of his room.  
  
One time, after a particularly harsh scolding from Odin for playing a trick on his brother, Loki begged his mother to let him stay in his room, just this once, for he couldn’t bear the thought of having to sit cramped between large men and warriors for another endless night, but she only smiled sadly and cupped his cheek, promising he would be just fine as long as Thor was there with him.  
  
And just as he knew it would come to pass, the feast was miserable, his fancy robes felt suffocating, and nothing Thor said could cheer him up, so when at last he couldn’t take it any longer, Loki pushed back from the table and bolted out of the grand dining hall.  
  
He ran and ran and ran until he could no longer breath and his chest felt as if it would burst into a thousand falling pieces, and he finally collapsed into the gardens beneath a weeping willow. Far above, the noise and chatter of the feast could be heard as the party continued on.  
  
“...Brother?”  
  
Loki hastily wiped an arm across his eyes. “Go away, Thor.”  
  
Thor must have followed him out of the banquet, for he, too, was panting, but whereas Loki had sorrow written across his face, Thor was a canvas of hope and joy and everything good and pure, as he crossed the distance between and took Loki into his arms, gentle but strong and safe. “Oh brother, don’t cry. I’m here for you.”  
  
And Loki stifled a sob as he gave in and clutched Thor a little tighter, wondering why his oaf of a brother was always so quick to forgive and forget the pranks he so often played, how he somehow always knew which of the right things to say during all of the right moments when Loki needed him most.  
  
They stayed that way for a long time, until the moon appeared in all its glory and starlight covered the garden grounds. Until someone decided it was time to dance, and the rowdy chittering of the feast was replaced by a melodic blend from the lute, and harp, and a group of fiddles.  
  
Thor jumped down excitedly from the bench and held out his hand in a bow. “May I have this dance, Sir Loki?”  
  
Loki pouted and blushed because Thor looked so much like a prince in his leather vest and flowing cape, and he tried to hide how much he really did want to reach out and take his hand. “ _Th-or,_ you know that dancing is only for a man and a woman.”  
  
Thor laughed and grabbed his hand anyway and pulled him close. “Nu-uh, the only thing that I know is that the person you pick to dance with is the person you like the best.”  
  
And Loki laughed for the first time that night as he let Thor lead the way, underneath the weeping willow and into a sea of stars.


	20. Dancing (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the coronation was never interrupted by Frost Giants and Loki is proud of his brother for ascending the throne. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a continuation of the previous story (in formal wear)! ^^

Underneath the stars and the moon and the billowing weeping willow, Loki and Thor twirled and laughed — and it was only when Frigga came calling for them that they danced to a stop, for bedtime was now upon them. And Frigga noticed with a smile that Loki held on to his brother’s hand all the way back to their bedroom, letting go only as they changed out of their clothes, then together again as she tucked them in and kissed them goodnight.  
  
After she left, Thor whispered in the dark, recounting scary stories about Frost Giants and Dark Elves and making Loki squeal and hide under the covers until Thor reached over and tickled him silly, which ended with the usual small dagger stabbing into his side. But Thor didn’t mind, because he never did, and what Loki liked best of all was when Thor tucked him close and patted his head and whispered so quietly that not a single soul in all the nine realms except Loki could hear him say, _Good night brother, I love you!  
  
_ And as Loki drifted off into sleep, he was comforted by the knowledge that even if father never came to love him, at least he would always have Thor.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

..

...

....

.....

......

.......

.......

.......

.......

.......

......

.....

....

...

..

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 _Yes..._ Loki grinned, _for no matter what happened, nothing would ever come between us.  
  
_ “...I now proclaim you — Thor Odison, King of Asgard!”  
  
The chamber erupted into cheers as Thor rose to his feet and raised his hammer, and Loki looked on with pride as his best friend, his brother, his most dearest companion — was now also his king.

* * * * *

Later during the celebration banquet, as Loki would come to recall years later as the most honourable — yet quite possible — most embarrassing moment of his life, because as per tradition — the new king was required to lead the first dance.  
  
The room hushed and parted as Thor made his way through the crowd until he reached the far end corner where Loki stood, leaning by the wall. “May I have this dance, Sir Loki?” he held out his hand. And Loki’s green eyes widened as all around them came curious whispers, and Odin himself stood up from the head table, bellowing “Thor, this dance is between a man and woman!”  
  
But Thor’s grin only stretched broader as he replied, hand still raised invitingly, “No father, it is for two people who like each other, and this—” he winked at Loki, “is who I like best.” And Loki, with his face blooming red and eyes cast down, placed a hand into Thor’s and let himself be swept to the centre of the room as Thor took him by the waist and intertwined their fingers, the music slow and soft as they swayed to the rhythm of each other.  
  
Sneaking a peek beyond Thor’s shoulder, Loki saw, not the least bit surprised, that Odin was sitting in silent fury as Frigga calmly patted his hand, and Loki decided with a smirk that even if it did cost him later, he was going to enjoy this one special moment with Thor, as he stood on tiptoes and reached out — in front of all their family and friends and distinguished guests — he closed the distance between their lips.


	21. Cooking/Baking (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Haddock ponders whether the time has finally come for him to pop the question._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw some fanart of Haddock cooking and stuff and I really like the idea of headcanoning him as someone good with food XD

“Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum...”  
  
Haddock hummed to himself, flipping the circular pan upside down and — out plopped the last layer of cake; the smallest one of all, as it landed next to eight other ones, all going up in size.  
  
He opened the jar of white icing and began pasting over the largest layer, making sure every inch of the round cake was covered. As he worked, gliding this way and that, his heart began lifting as he imagined — not for the first time — what their wedding would be like. Oh, it would be a damn magnificent ceremony alright, with the Professor there and even those bumbling Thompsons, and of course the lad would want to invite Chang and Zorrino, and dear old Skut, and perhaps Castoroili—  
  
Haddock wrinkled his nose. No, no, that woman would surely not be attending, not if he could help it.   
  
He finished icing the smallest layer and piled it on the very top. Oh, but he knew the lad wouldn’t mind in the least. Tintin was like that, friendly and open and treating everyone with kindness, because that’s what he does — always seeing the good in others; it was how he came to see Haddock the night they met aboard the _Karaboudjan,_ and Haddock had everything to thank him for. And now, after everything that’s happened since...  
  
He allowed himself a small smile as he switched to a tube of pink frosting and began squeezing a trail of flowers along the cake.  
  
...he wanted with all his heart to spend the rest of however many years he had left, all of them with the lad. The thought of it comforted him, even more than a sneaky late-night bottle of Loch Lomond did, which — he almost laughed — was not something he ever thought would happen—  
  
His face fell. Oh, but what if the lad...didn’t want to?  
  
He set down the pink tube. Maybe Tintin was content with the way things were and didn’t see the need to settle with all that ceremonial vows and what not? It was true they were the closest of friends and cared for one another like no one else did...but perhaps that was where it ended?  
  
He eyed the cake, noting how it actually looked presentable today. Well, that was surprising; after twenty-four tries and endless hours of whisking and stirring and blending and pouring and trying to get those pesky bits of flour out of his beard— he had actually done it. The cake, it was perfect. But then, why did the sight of it squeeze his heart so?  
  
He sighed. They had never truly talked about a future together, and now, all of a sudden, he was afraid of what he might hear if he did indeed blurt out those four little words and asked the lad to spend their life together.  
  
And yet...  
  
His heart skipped a beat. There was no way he was going to know, was he?, if he didn’t at least _ask_ , but to do that means he would need to prepare a ri—  
  
Somewhere in the house, the old grandfather clock rang out five chimes.  
  
Haddock blinked, glancing out the window. If he wanted to make it to the jeweler’s shop, he had to hurry before it closed in half an hour. And so, with newfound confidence, he cleaned up the pans and put away the icing, wiped down the counter, flung off his apron, and barged out the kitchen and down to the entrance hall.  
  
“Nestor! Nestor, I’m heading out for a while.” He started pulling on his coat. “I’ll be back in an hour so make sure that you—”  
  
“Captain, there you are!” said Tintin, coming down the grand staircase. “I’ve been looking all over for you today—” He frowned. “Captain, is that...frosting on your face?” He reached for his cheek but Haddock quickly topped on his hat, avoiding his gaze. “Sorry my boy, no time to explain! I- I’ve got to hurry now, I shall see you later during dinner—” And he was out the door before the lad could ask another word.  
  
As he hurried to the car — heart racing nervously — but even more so because of excitement, he was already picturing in his mind the exact style he would buy, for if he was going to ask Tintin to marry him, then he was most certainly going to be needing the perfect ring.


	22. In Battle, Side By Side (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Tintin and Haddock once again encounter the Karaboudjan’s former first mate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 1 of a 3-part fic! :)  
> 🌟 Part 2 will be Day 23: Arguing  
> ⭐️ Part 3 will be Day 24: Making Up Afterwards
> 
> Also...writing this has made me realize just how much I need to practice action scenes more often XD;;

“Captain, look out — behind you!”  
  
Haddock ducked from a fist aiming for his head then jammed the shovel’s handle into Allan’s gut. “That’ll teach you to cast a mutiny against Captain Haddock!” he cheered as Allan dropped to his knees, wheezing.  
  
Haddock and the lad had spent all day digging through the sandy beach, the riddle from the old library book having led them to the shores of Hawaii. It was Tintin who finally found it, the yellowing treasure map rolled up inside a dusty glass bottle, buried twenty feet deep underneath a ring of stones. However, their celebration was short-lived by the untimely arrival of an old foe. _Several_ , in fact, as Tom and Pedro jumped down from the row boat and were kicking up sand as they hurtled across the beach towards the fight.  
  
“Captain, here!”  
  
Haddock threw down the shovel and caught the flying bottle as the lad whirled around, jabbing an elbow into Pedro’s face then landing a kick to Tom’s back.  
  
“Yes! That’s it, lad! Give them a bit of this and a bit of that—” He imitated punches through the air. “Those scavenging ruffians! Dunderheaded coconuts! Savages and barbarians—”  
  
“Captain, watch out!”  
  
Haddock swiveled just in time, bottle clutched to his chest, as Allan leaped at him, face turned up in rage. “Give it up, Haddock. There’s no way out for you this time.”  
  
“Never! I won’t hand this over even as I take my dying breath!”  
  
Allan pulled out a gun. “Then I shall arrange that for you right now—”  
  
“Oh no, you won’t!” The lad barrelled headfirst into Allan as they tumbled backwards and began wrestling in the sand, the gun landing forgotten a few feet away.  
  
Haddock dove for it just as Pedro sprang forward, both men’s forehead colliding in an unfortunate _bang!_  
  
Reeling from the pain and cursing every word under the sun, Haddock fumbled blindly in the sand for the bottle, caught its tip— and brought it smashing over Pedro, who fell like a collapsed sandcastle.  
  
There was no time to pluck out the map from the pile of shards as Tom came racing over, a knife glinting in his raised fist as Haddock rolled onto his side and narrowly missed the silver blade.  
  
Tom spun on his heel, aiming again— but this time Haddock stuck out a leg and kicked out under his feet, knocking him off balance as Haddock whapped him over the head. For a moment Tom dazed into the distance, then his eyes rolled up and he landed face first into the sand.  
  
Panting and hurting all over in his joints but otherwise unscathed, Haddock stumbled over to the map and picked it up. “Come on, Tintin, let’s get on out of here before they come to—”  
  
A gun cocked. Its wicked sound a sudden invasion amidst the peaceful lapping of the waves.  
  
Slowly, Haddock turned, and all at once the air squeezed out from his lungs.  
  
“Did you actually for a moment thought you could win?” sneered Allan. One arm was wrapped around Tintin, locking him in a chokehold, the other pointing the gun barrel at the lad’s head. “Hand over the map, or the boy gets blown all over your feet.”  
  
Anger flared through Haddock and he was certain he would crush the delicate map in his shaking hand. “Allan, you backstabbing blistering bastard! Let him go, this is between us.”  
  
“Captain, don’t—” Tintin struggled. “Don’t give it to him.”  
  
Allan jabbed the gun harder against his temple. “If I were you I’d keep my mouth shut.” Glaring, he barked at Haddock, “The map, _now._ ”  
  
“Captain, don’t do it—”  
  
“ _One more word and I’ll shoot you_ and _Haddock._ ”  
  
The lad clenched his teeth but he continued holding Haddock’s gaze, pleading with his eyes. Haddock knew he wasn’t fearing for his life but for the map and the treasure awaiting at the end, which would no doubt be exploited by Allan and his men, both of whom were now groaning awake and rubbing their heads.  
  
Haddock closed his eyes, defeat sinking into his drooping figure, as he looked down at the sand. “Alright, Allan. You win. Just please, let the lad go.”  
  
His former first mate smirked. “But of course, _Captain_ Haddock.” He jerked his chin towards his men. “Hand it to them. Once they’re on the boat, I’ll release the boy.”  
  
Haddock nodded, swallowing, as he held out the map.  
  
“Captain, oh _Captain,_ please, no—”  
  
Haddock watched silently as Tom and Pedro returned to the boat, readying the oars.  
  
“Come now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Allan’s mouth curved up. “And as promised — here’s your precious lad!” In one move he rammed down the end of the gun against Tintin’s head.  
  
Haddock rushed forward just as the lad crumpled, and caught him in his arms. “Tintin! Tintin, my boy— Can you hear me?” He patted at his cheeks. “Tintin, please, say something.”  
  
Haddock looked around for Allan, blinking away an onpour of tears that threatened to spill if not for the fury that was suppressing them, but by then the boat was already rowing away. “Allan, you— I swear, _I swear on my ancestors’s blood that you shall pay dearly!!_ Do you hear me? You won’t get away with this!”  
  
But his voice was lost in the wind as the boat drifted farther and farther into the horizon of the dying sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow for Day 23: Arguing! :)


	23. Arguing (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Tintin, at last, understands._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 2 of a 3-part fic! :)  
> 🌟 Part 1 was Day 22: In Battle, Side By Side  
> ⭐️ Part 3 will be Day 24: Making Up Afterwards
> 
> To be honest, the idea for this mini fic (where Tintin is held at gunpoint and Haddock has to make a choice) came almost 2 months ago and when I saw the prompts for the challenge (22, 23, 24), it just seemed so perfect! I'm really glad I can finally share what I've imagined for so long here with you all 😆

The darkness...was strangely peaceful.  
  
He wanted to lay forever upon the soft sand but a painful throbbing at the back of his head would not let him rest. And a voice...there was a voice, calling for someone, but who were they calling? And why did they sound so scared, as if they lost someone dear and now their world has suddenly turned grey? Tintin wanted to take their hand and say gently, _It’s going to be alright; I know everything will be okay,_ but the voice kept getting louder and louder, and the throbbing in his skull had his head feeling tender and heavy and he couldn’t enjoy the darkness any longer, so he gave in with a sigh and flitted open his eyes.  
  
“Tintin! Oh, bless my beard, I thought Allan had done you in for good!”  
  
Tintin blinked. The Captain was looking down at him, relief reflected in his crooked smile. Beyond his shoulder, the sky was washed in blurs of pink and orange.  
  
Tintin sat up. “What...what happened? Ow—!” He rubbed his head. “Goodness, I must’ve hit something quite hard.” He looked around. “I say, where did Allan and his men run off to?”  
  
But instead of answering, the Captain rose slowly to his feet and turned towards the sea, his shadow stretching across the beach.  
  
Tintin stood and followed his gaze, eyes squinting into the distance...then widened. “Why, I never thought they would actually go on their way, just like that, and leave us with the m—” He froze. It was as if someone was flipping through the pages of a book and showing him only certain scenes, the images flashing in random — his vision filling with sparks as something hard knocked his head, Allan pointing a gun, the look in the Captain’s face as he held out the parchment—  
  
Tintin whirled around. “You gave them the _map?_ Captain, how could y—” His hands couldn’t help but ball into fists. “We spent _days_ solving that riddle, Captain, and it took much of our time digging around here on the beach.”  
  
“I...there wasn’t any choice, lad — Allan had the gun and he was going to—”  
  
“Crumbs, I _told_ you not to hand it over, Captain! I- I would’ve had figured something out, I—”  
  
“Yes, but—”  
  
Tintin faced the sea and gestured. “And now they’re far away and going to do heaven knows what once they find the treasure—”  
  
“Lad—”  
  
“—and all our efforts have wasted—”  
  
“Enough—”  
  
“—and you just handed it over—”  
  
_“ENOUGH!”  
  
_ And it happened so fast, so suddenly, that it took Tintin two heartbeats to realize the Captain had him wrapped in an embrace, those arms, ever so strong but gentle when they needed to be, enveloped like a cocoon and enfolding him inside, as if they wished to shield him from all the harm in the world.  
  
“It’s because I can’t lose you.” His voice was soft, shaking, barely a whisper, “You’re...you’re everything to me, Tintin.”  
  
And Tintin gasped. Slowly, carefully, afraid the Captain would shatter under a single touch, he brought up his arms and requited.  
  
“Oh, Captain...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow for Day 24: Making Up Afterwards! :)


	24. Making Up Afterwards (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the greatest treasure of all lies not with something valued of worth, but something treasured beyond the worth of all valuables._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this 3rd and final part! :)  
> 🌟 Part 1 was Day 22: In Battle, Side By Side  
> ⭐️ Part 2 was Day 23: Arguing

Folded against the Captain’s warmth, a thousand different thoughts fleeted through Tintin’s mind, each hoping they would be the one he picked and confessed, yet somehow, he could not find the words for any of them, because what he really wanted to say was every single one of them, all at once.  
  
“Captain...forgive me, I—” his voice trembled. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you in such a way. I, I was a fool...” He sank deeper against the woolly comfort of the Captain’s sweater. “It was all my fault, I failed us and—”  
  
The Captain pulled back, but his hands remained gripping his shoulders. “Look at me, Tintin. None of it was your fault, y’hear? So don’t you go blaming yourself like a pitiful sea lion who’s lost its roar.” His eyes softened, melting to a half-smile. Against the slowly sinking sun brushed with streaks of gold and pink, his cheeks were aglow with the remains of the day as they were smoothed over of tired wrinkles, somehow lifting off years of loneliness and making him younger than Tintin had ever seen. “There are plenty of others willing to call you a failure, Tintin, but don’t you ever, _ever_ , say it of yourself.”  
  
Tintin allowed himself a sad grin. “My dear Captain, I always knew you were much too good for me.” His shoulders suddenly dropped. “I just...I only wish I had been more careful, then none of this would have ha—”  
  
The Captain leaned in and kissed him.  
  
Oh...how Tintin would’ve given everything to stay in this moment forever, the two of them safe under the golden hue of the Hawaiian sunset as the flowing waves quietly doused the beach, for this was the first time the Captain had ever kissed him out of the blue, always too shy to reveal his feelings and flushing like a child whenever Tintin be the one to show him affection.  
  
Which was how he looked now, as they broke apart and he focused on anything but Tintin’s gaze, a hand covering away half his face, as if he was the one who had just been surprised. “I, um...th-that...I was—”  
  
But Tintin had already flung his arms around his neck and returned his lips to where they belonged.  
  
“T-Tintin, my boy—!” The Captain’s face broke into a smile that was as big and bright as the sun itself, as Tintin kissed his nose, kissed his eyes, and his forehead, and his beard—  
  
And their laughter rang like wedding bells as they tumbled onto the sand, lost in each other’s arms as high above, a flock of gulls soared across the darkening purple sky.  
  
Tintin graced a palm against the Captain’s face, heart glowing as he realized, not for the first time, how truly blessed he was to have someone who was although imperfect in many ways, he was wonderfully perfect in so much more. “Let’s go home now, Captain.”  
  
The Captain nodded, and kissed his hand.  
  
As they made their way along the beach to pick up the shovels, a glint of glass winked from the corner of Tintin’s eyes.  
  
He went over and knelt down, taking in the remains of the bottle, and noticed a small square of parchment peeking out from the shards.  
  
Carefully, he picked it up, angling the parchment to catch the last bit of light as he read the message scrawled in blue.  
  
“Tintin! Are you ready?”  
  
He folded the note — “I’m coming, Captain!” — and slipped it into his pocket.  
  
“And just what’re you smiling about?” the Captain said, once Tintin returned to his side. “I know that look — you found something, didn’t you?” His eyes lit up. “Was it another map?”  
  
Tintin looped his arm into the Captain’s as together they headed for the port. “Oh, nonsense, treasure is hard to come by, you know that. It wouldn’t be lying around for just anyone to find so easily.” His mind drifted to what the message on the note had said, in that _the greatest treasure of all lies not with something valued of worth, but something treasured beyond the worth of all valuables.  
  
_ He glanced at the man beside him. “Though I do suspect that treasure is most often found when one least expects to, wouldn’t you agree?”  
  
The Captain chuckled, shaking his head. “Aye, laddie. But then again, you would know much more about hidden treasure than me.”  
  
And Tintin only laughed and squeezed his arm.


	25. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Thor learns something new about his brother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 4 days of Haddotin...I think my brain has just about forgotten how to write Thorki 😂💦 AAHHH I don't even know what I'm writing here anymore...

“—and heaven only knows, you are _such_ an idiot, you do realize that? How many times must you go competing against that green beast? And _hold_ still—” Loki jerked back Thor’s chin and dabbed the cloth to his forehead. “The way you still act like a child is honestly beyond me.”  
  
Thor laughed, but he did stop spinning around his hammer so Loki could continue. “It was just a friendly little fight, but,” he grinned at the memory, “you should have seen the way Bruce kept apologizing for the other guy’s action. And besides,” he smiled innocently, “I always have you to help fix me up—”  
  
Loki shot him a look, and Thor immediately went quiet.  
  
With the wound now clean, Loki opened a small tin labelled “Healing Balm” and underneath in smaller lettering, _For idiots named Thor.  
  
_ Thor watched as Loki dipped two fingers in and brought them up to the wound, gently smoothing around the red slash, the balm cool and calming and smelling like mint. With Loki so close, he saw the way his brother’s brows came together in concentration, how his mouth parted slightly and his emerald eyes—  
  
Thor’s own eyes widened, causing Loki to side eye him until he realized Thor was gawking. “Y-you oaf, why are you looking at me that way—”  
  
Thor cocked his head. “Your eyes, they turned a shade darker just now.”  
  
His brother scoffed, wiping his fingers clean and pressing the lid back to the tin. “Well, aren’t you observant. If you truly did have more than two brain cells — which I know you don’t — you would have known that during the past, oh, _one thousand years we’ve spent growing up together_ , my eyes have always been able to—”  
  
A secret smile flitted across Thor as he shook his head. “No, what I meant was — they changed as soon as you touched me.”  
  
Loki froze. In just half a heartbeat, his pale face flushed from pink to red.  
  
“Ah, it looks like I _do_ have more than two brain cells after all.” Thor quirked his mouth, then leaned forward, eyebrows teasing, “Hey, touch me again.”  
  
Loki rose. “No.”  
  
“Please—”  
  
“ _No,_ Thor.”  
  
“Come now, brother, just once more—”  
  
“ _NO—_ ”  
  
“—and I’ll even let you choose from my arms, or my chest, or — oh! — how about down here using my—”  
  
And that was how Thor found himself once again keeling over with a dagger to his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I really do need to stop ending every other Thorki fic with Thor getting stabbed by Loki 😅 *sighs...*


	26. Getting Married (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which he finally asks those four little words._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have said this before, but I'll say it again, and again, and again (and again...), but AAHHH they are just so perfect for each other T^T *cries a waterfall*

Haddock swallowed nervously as he smoothed down his hair one last time in the mirror, patted his pocket to make sure he had the box, and left his room.  
  
Earlier as they were finishing dinner, he had blurted out to the lad that he wanted to meet him in the garden for a moment. When Tintin had asked whatever was it for, Haddock only stammered, _I...I need to ask you something_. To which the lad had grasped both of his hands and said excitedly, _As a matter of fact, Captain, I would also like to ask you something of importance.  
  
_ Something of importance? _Oh, of course! It must be to do with that report the lad was working on,_ thought Haddock, as he came down the stairs now and headed for the French doors that led into the garden. _But why had he looked so eager about it..?  
  
_ Shaking his head, he let out a long exhale, hoping it would calm the thumping in his chest, and with a push of the door, he stepped into the garden.  
  
The lad was already there, peering over something on the rose bush, his tuft of ginger standing out like a spark of warmth underneath the moonbeams.  
  
“Captain, come take a look,” he beckoned once Haddock reached his side. “There, on that leaf. Oh, aren’t they just beautiful, Captain?”  
  
Haddock looked down. Sure enough, two plump little fireflies gleamed up at him. “Blistering barnacles, how did they end up here?”  
  
“Perhaps they were attracted by all the beauty here at Marlinspike,” said Tintin, indicating the garden. All around them were shades of pink, white, purple, and yellow. “It really is such a peaceful place,” he said. A light wind breezed by, rustling the flowers and sending a few petals dancing through the air.  
  
Haddock felt for the square in his pocket, feeling encouraged by its presence, as he took a deep breath. “Lad...there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”  
  
Tintin turned. “What is it, Captain?”  
  
He looked at the fireflies. “We have been...well, it’s been almost three years since we’ve been living together and I, um...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s, it’s been truly the most happiest time of my life, here, with you, I- I mean — not just _here_ , at Marlinspike, but, well, _everywhere_ with you.” He cleared his throat. “And, and I know I’m not what you have in mind, but I, I...”  
  
He took out the box and held it gently in both hands, as if he were holding out his own heart and was about to give away the deepest part of his soul. “What I mean to say is...” He dropped to a knee, and brought up his eyes.  
  
The lad was now looking at him in a way that spoke of everything, and nothing, yet everything at once, for one hand had come up to cover his face, his eyes glistening from the moonlight.  
  
Haddock opened the box. “Tintin, my boy...will you marry me?”  
  
And Tintin started crying — and laughing? — as he smiled through tears and reached into his own pocket— “Oh, Captain. Everything you said, everything just now, I—” he held out an identical box, his cheeks wet and reflecting with all the light from heaven above as he lifted Haddock to his feet. “My dear, dear Captain,” he opened the box, face widening like a flower bud blooming with love, “it’s been the most happiest time of my life too.”  
  
And everything Haddock ever feared, ever worried, ever thought would never come true— all faded away, as if a shadow melted by moonlight.  
  
He wiped an arm across his eyes, hiccuping, “Tintin, y-you silly fellow. This is all too much for my poor old heart.”  
  
Tintin laughed and nudged him playfully. “Oh, but you must let me say it properly, Captain.” He took a step forward and cleared his throat, eyes gazing warmly into Haddock.  
  
Haddock felt a rush of heat behind his eyes again.  
  
The lad smiled. “Captain Archibald Haddock...will you marry me?”  
  
And he mirrored back, lips drawing into the most joyous of smiles. “And you, Tintin, will you marry me?”  
  
They looked at one another for a moment longer, until the tears began flowing down again, and they reached forward and fell into each other’s arms.  
  
 _“Yes, I will!”_  
  
And behind them on the rose bush, the fireflies dusted off their wings and took flight, two golden orbs fluttering side by side as together, they glowed quietly into the gentle night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! XD
> 
> It's actually been a headcanon of mine in that, being the adorable dorks that they are, Tintin and Haddock end up proposing to each other at the same time because they just love each other too dang much :'DD
> 
> I'm still debating if I should expand this into a full fic one day to include their actual wedding, haha. I guess we'll see XD


	27. On One of Their Birthdays (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Haddock receives...an assortment of gifts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to very reliable online sources, Haddock’s birthday is on [ January 9](https://www.tintinologist.org/forums/index.php?action=vthread&forum=4&topic=5904) while Tintin’s is on [ January 10](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tintin_\(character\)) :D  
> (and if this isn’t fate then I don’t know what is ajbkvdkjfkl—)

It was a fine day in Brussels. Still quite chilly from last night’s flurry, but otherwise clear-skyed with an air of coolness.  
  
On this day, over in the countryside where the entire estate was layered softly in white, a party was taking place at Marlinspike Hall.  
  
 _“...HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR HAAADDOCK~! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO~ YOU~~!”_  
  
Everyone clapped and cheered as the Captain blew out the candles, beaming.  
  
While Nestor set about cutting up the anchor-shaped cake, each of the guests brought out their gifts.  
  
“Harrold, my sweet angel!” The Signora held up a bulging bag. “Last time when you caught that _dreadful_ flu I was worried sick! So today I’ve brought you a luggage full of all my finest herbs and tonic and—”  
  
“That- that’s quite alright, madam—”  
  
“—and I simply _insist_ that you follow these instructions and take them five times a day — oh, perhaps six would be better — here, let me write it down. Oh, you poor dear, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you again...”  
  
The Captain gave Tintin a helpless look across the table that all but said, _Lad, get her out of my beard!_   
  
Tintin stifled a laugh behind his hand.  
  
“Ah, Captain. If I may...please accept this latest invention of mine.”  
  
“Is this your _pendulum_ , Calculus?”  
  
“Why yes, it is indeed a new one! How did you guess? This one here is designed to predict the weather. I’ve fixed it up so whenever it’s about to rain, the pendulum will start moving, just like now—”  
  
“Calculus...we have clear skies today. Are you really sure this wor—”  
  
“Nonsense, Captain, my hearing is perfectly well, thank you for asking. Now then—”  
  
“Blast it, Calculus!! Your hearing is the one that needs fixing!”  
  
“Mister Haddock?” A hand tugged his sleeve. “This is for you.”  
  
“Why, thank you very much, Chang.” He unwrapped the box. “Is this a...decoration?”  
  
“Traditional Chinese teapot, Mister Haddock. You see here? I even included two teacups so you and Tintin can enjoy it together.”  
  
“Oh! Well, that’s quite thoughtful of you—”  
  
“Here you are, Captain. Happy Birthday!”  
  
“...Detectives, this here is a fake mustache.”  
  
“Yes! And it’s quite useful for when you need a quick getaway—”  
  
“ _Confound it!_ If you haven’t noticed, I’ve already got a beard!”  
  
“Oh...you’re right. Anywho, this is also for you, Captain!”  
  
“A...walking stick?”  
  
“Precisely. You can use it when you get old.”  
  
“To be precise, you are getting old—”  
  
“ _Ten thousand blistering barnacles—_ I still have many years ahead until I need one, you bumbling buffoons!!”  
  
By then, Nestor had laid out each plate with a generous piece of blue frosted cake and passed them around the table. Everyone tucked in excitedly, all except for the Captain, who muttered for Nestor to quickly fetch him a drink.

* * * * *

By the time everyone left and the Professor retired to his room, the Captain flopped onto the couch, exhaling tiredly. “What a day! It’s only just passed five o’clock, but here I am, already worn out and ready for bed! And just what am I supposed to do with all that?” He flung an arm towards the table where he had left the gifts.  
  
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Captain.” Tintin perched on the armrest and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Speaking of which...”  
  
He went over to the bookshelf by the fireplace and took down a rectangular box, unwrapped but adorned with a red bow. “Captain...I know you told me not to get you anything, but...” He held it out shyly in both hands. “I had this made just for you.”  
  
The Captain stood. “Oh, Tintin, you little gangster!” But he took it all the same and pulled off the bow.  
  
“Be careful, Captain, it’s made of glass.”  
  
The Captain removed the lid, and gasped. “Lad, is this..?”  
  
Tintin nodded.  
  
The Captain gently lifted out the bottle from its velvet hold, placing it flat on its side on top of the fireplace. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, leaning for a closer look.  
  
Tintin watched as he ran a hand along the glass, eyes sighing as he admired the miniature model ship standing proudly in a pool of blue. “Captain, I...I know there are certain memories you wish to forget aboard the _Karaboudjan_ , but I had hoped that whenever you think back, you’ll instead remember it as the place where we first met.”  
  
“Aye laddie, how could I forget?” The Captain stood back. “It was there that I met the baby-faced assassin who they had sent to kill me!”  
  
Tintin laughed. “I wasn’t sent to _assassinate_ you, Captain. You know that.”  
  
The Captain touched his shoulder. “I know, Tintin, I know.” He looked at the bottle. “You had been sent to come and stay in my life.”  
  
Tintin leaned against him, watching the flames dance in the fireplace and feeling extremely warm from head to toe, but he knew it wasn’t because of the fire. “Happy Birthday, Captain.”  
  
The Captain rested his head on top of Tintin’s. “Thank you, my boy.”  
  
They stayed quietly against each other, until the Captain looked over and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to invite everyone over tomorrow? It would be rather dull with just the two of us, what with Calculus off on the science trip—”  
  
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Captain. And besides,” Tintin poked the Captain in the belly, “I heard from Nestor that you’ve taken up baking lately, especially baking cakes. Is that true?” He beamed brightly. “I would be very much delighted if I could try them out, Captain.”  
  
The Captain’s eyes widened as a hint of pink bloomed across his face. “Well, um...I-I was, that was supposed to— _Ohhh, blistering barnacles—_ ” He stomped out the room and down the hall where Tintin heard him bellowing, “ _Nestor!!_ Nestor, what did I say about telling Tintin the surprise for tomorrow?! Didn’t I tell you to keep quiet if he ever asked—”  
  
And Tintin chuckled to himself as he went to tell the Captain that, surprise or no surprise, meeting him that night onboard the ship had already been the best surprise of all.


	28. Doing Something Ridiculous (Thorki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Thor and Loki visit the zoo, particularly the owlery._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I kinda wrote this for my own indulgence, hahahah XD
> 
> //whispers: I wanna be the owl in Loki (Tom's) arms... 😔💕

“Loki, I think that one really likes you! Did you see the way it nipped your hair?”  
  
“If you have quite finished enjoying this foolery, I suggest we leave now, because I am _this close_ to burning this place to the ground, with you in it,” Loki grumbled, arms crossed stiffly across his chest. At least half a dozen owls of all shades of brown were perched happily on his shoulders, an extra large one on top of his head.  
  
The trip to the zoo had been Barton’s idea, really. During their visit to Earth this time, Thor had asked his opinion on where he could bring Loki, figuring Barton had taken his family on many fun outings before. Barton had thought for a moment before replying with a sly smile, _Oh, definitely the zoo, you wouldn’t want to miss that. And while you’re there, make sure you take Loki to the owlery. It’s a nice, clean, quiet place, I’m sure your brother would like it very much.  
  
_ But now...  
  
Looking over at his brother, Thor could not possibly imagine why the owls had all flocked to him, but here they were, hooting and screeching from either side of Loki’s shoulders while a nerve pulsed on his brother’s forehead. “Barton was right after all,” he chuckled, shaking his head, understanding now why his friend had emphasized _clean_ and _quiet_. “I wonder why we had never thought of coming be—”  
  
“You asked _him?_ I can’t believe it! You, still meeting up with the Avengers— Oh, that’s it! Off with you all!” He shook his arms, the owls scattering in an eruption of wings and claws. “Go on, get off!” Brushing himself down, Loki scowled, “Why I always end up going along with your ridiculous ideas is honestly beyond me—”  
  
“Aww brother, I had thought it might be fun—”  
  
“ _Fun?_ You think I’m having _fun,_ with all these feathers and droppings and heaven knows what else, covering me from head to toe? I’ll tell you what, when we return to Asgard, I am going to make sure that y— oh, what is it _now?_ ”  
  
For a small white owl had wandered over and was nuzzling her fluffy head against Loki’s leg.  
  
“Oh, go on. Shoo, shoo!” Loki stuck out his leg in an attempt to push her away, but each time he did the owl came back and rubbed her head affectionately against him.  
  
“Brother, I- I think she likes you!” Thor exclaimed excitedly.  
  
“I — what? No no, go away, go away, you!” But the owl hooted and stayed put, stretching open her wings and flapping, as if she was patting his leg.  
  
“Loki...I think she wants you to pick her up.”  
  
 _“What?”  
  
_ “Just look at her! It’s clear that she likes you.”  
  
His brother heaved an annoyed sigh, and for a moment Thor thought he was going to bring back his leg and send the ball of fluff hurtling across the owlery and straight out of the zoo. But one heartbeat passed, and Loki bent down, scooping up the hooting bundle. “There, are you satisfied, you annoying little cloud?” he directed into his arms.  
  
Thor watched as the owl snuggled deeper against Loki’s chest, eyes closing as she chirped from within his embrace. “Well well, who knew you had a soft touch, brother.”  
  
Loki was silent as he looked down at the owl. A moment passed, and Thor was amazed to see an actual, real — _genuine?!_ — soft smile slowly come upon his brother’s face.  
  
And then Loki turned and barked at the alarmed zookeeper, “I shall have you know, this one is coming with me.”  
  
“W-wait, Loki? You can’t be serious—”  
  
Loki cast him a smirk. “And _you_ can tell your friend, the archer, that coming here was indeed a splendid idea.”  
  
Thor threw up his arms, defeated.  
  
Meanwhile, miles away and somewhere on his farm, Barton laughed into his phone as he told Nat what he had done.


	29. Doing Something Sweet (Johnlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which John forgets today was February the fourteenth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* These two cuties will be the death of me :'D

It began after John woke up.  
  
First, it had been his morning tea, prepared exactly the way he liked it, set next to a plate of heart-shaped toast and fried eggs. And then it had been the full-on kiss Sherlock stopped him with as he was putting on his jacket, all slow and deep and full of fire, leaving John weak in the knees as he walked out the door and off to work.  
  
But now...  
  
“Sorry to disturb you, Doctor Watson, but, um...this just came for you.”  
  
John looked up from his lunch to see the receptionist hovering in the doorway of the staff room, looking at him nervously, as a delivery guy hauled in an enormous bouquet that blocked his entire upper body, his arms holding the largest bundle of flowers John had ever seen: red, pink, yellow, orange, purple — half of Kensington Garden seemed to have been swept into the delivery guy’s arms, who poked his head out above the jungle of flowers and said, “Someone must _really_ adore you, mate.”  
  
John brought a hand to his forehead and massaged his temples.

* * * * *

“What the _hell_ were you thinking?”  
  
Sherlock grinned, not looking up as he continued typing. “I take it you got the flowers.”  
  
“Sherlock, look, it was wonderful,” John shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch, “but you can’t go delivering a whole _garden_ to the clinic!”  
  
“Oh don’t worry, John. The extravagance of it all was partly to let that clingy receptionist of yours aware of the fact that you are, quite frankly, already taken.” Sherlock’s lips pulled back, the glow from his laptop illuminating the glint in his eyes. “I daresay she’ll give up her efforts now and finally realize you and her were simply never meant to be.”  
  
“Hang on, the _receptionist?_ How would you even—” John put up a hand. “You know what, nevermind. I’ve had a long day and I’m gonna head to bed.” Shooting Sherlock one last look, John went upstairs.  
  
Two heartbeats passed...  
  
“OH FOR GOD’S SAKE, _SHERLOCK!_ ”  
  
Angry footsteps thudded down the steps as John reappeared, a five foot tall teddy bear clutched clumsily in front of him. “May I ask _why_ this was on my bed?”  
  
Sherlock sipped his tea as he continued clacking away at the keyboard. “I’m glad you like it, John. I had it specifically custom-made just for this special day—”  
  
“Hang on...special day? What’s going on today?”  
  
“The bear, John! Did you not see what it said?”  
  
John set down the gigantic thing and walked in front, eyes suddenly catching a red heart sewn between the bear’s paws that he hadn’t notice earlier, gold lettering stitched across the fabric. He knelt for a better look. “To my dearest John,” he read, “Happy Valen—” John’s eyes widened, tongue halfway forming a _t_ -.  
  
He whipped around. “Good God...Sherlock, is that today?”  
  
Sherlock shut his laptop. “The same day every year, John.”  
  
John closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh, Sherlock. I am so sorry, it completely slipped my mind. I—” He thought about the flowers, still in the staff room exploding proudly from a corner; the eggs and toast and tea from this morning...  
  
He sighed, smiling half-heartedly. “But of all the things,” he indicated the bear, “why this in particular?”  
  
Sherlock got up and came over, hands in his pocket as he shrugged, “I thought it would be useful. You could hold it at night and cuddle...or something.”  
  
John almost laughed. “Me? _Cuddle?_ Oh for God’s sake, Sherlock, you can cuddle with it yourself, if that’s what you wanna do—”  
  
“Of course I don’t.” And all at once John found himself pulled into an embrace against the soft purple shirt as Sherlock murmured into his hair, “Because I’ve already got you, John.”  
  
As he lay wrapped in Sherlock’s warmth, comforted by the steady beating of his heart, John felt his ears growing hot. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Sherlock he was the biggest idiot in the world — the stupidest one of all — but that despite all his childishness and cheeky ways— he was forever John’s favourite idiot in the world.  
  
And then his stomach grumbled.  
  
Sherlock grinned. “Candlelight and dinner?”  
  
John rolled his eyes. “God, yes.”  
  
Sherlock kissed his nose and went to put in an order for takeaway.  
  
As John stood there, his heart aglowing with lightness and peace, he watched Sherlock dial his phone, until a thought crossed his mind and his brows came together, “Hang on, Sherlock,” he folded his arms. “Just now, were you...were you implying I look like _a child’s teddy bear?_ ”  
  
With the phone against his ear, Sherlock turned — all cheekbones and sly — and winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember when I first started watching Sherlock back in 2012, I thought John looked like a very cuddly teddy bear (what with his sweater and all 😂) and I thought he was just so cute, so I guess this fic is based on how I felt back then XDD


	30. Doing Something Hot (Haddotin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Tintin and Haddock relax in a hot spring._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, a hot spring...see what I did there? ;D
> 
> Haha I'm just too shy to ever write about Tintin and Haddock actually "doing something hot" XD;;
> 
> But anyway - hope you enjoy! <3

“Ahh...this is wonderful, Tintin.” Haddock sighed, relaxing as he floated in the steaming hot spring. “Why, I believe my aching joints are getting younger and younger!”  
  
“Yes...it does feel quite like heaven...doesn’t it, Captain?” came the lad’s sleepy voice as he, too, drifted in the water.  
  
Haddock closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth of the spring and the earthy smell of pine as their heads bumped together. “I would stay here all day if I could...just the two of us without a lick of care in this world!”  
  
“Oh Captain, we could always come again another time,” the lad replied, and Haddock knew from the smile in his voice that he was already planning when their next visit would be. “In fact...before January is over and the weather changes, we should come enjoy this more often.”  
  
Haddock folded his hands over his chest, his sleeveless undershirt damp but warm as he said, “I think I would like that very much.” And next thing he knew a splash of water came down on his face. “Th-thundering typhoons—!” He wiped his eyes. Somewhere nearby the lad was laughing as more water splattered his way, drenching his hair and beard. “Why, you little gangster! Bullying the old captain, eh?” He readied himself. “Well, now you’ve done it!” and he swept his arm, sending a wave towards the lad and making him gasp from the sudden spray against his bare chest, his tuft soaking through and slicking down. “There’s more where that came from!” Haddock cheered, as he plummeted through the water, battering up a mini hurricane towards Tintin until the lad brought up his hands, laughing, “Alright alright— you win!”  
  
Haddock grinned proudly as he drifted over to a nearby boulder, resting against its mossy surface. “You know, I do think I shall enjoy our future visits here very, very much. Oh, but tell me Tintin, however did you come to find this place?”  
  
“Well,” said Tintin, squeezing the water from his tuft as he floated over, “years ago, I had been hot on the trail of a group of bandits and a chase through the woods led me here.” He chuckled, shaking his head, “They almost got away because I had been completely mesmerized by the spring, can you believe it? But I suppose I was delighted at having discovered this place, like a secret tucked away from the rest of the world.” He leaned against Haddock and looked up at the sky, patches of blue filling in through the branches and leaves. “But I never did come back until now.”  
  
Haddock looked over. “Why didn’t you?”  
  
“Oh, well, I had always hoped that when I did...” Tintin blushed, “that it would...it would be with someone special.”  
  
At this, a fresh wave of heat rushed up Haddock’s face while the same time the lad’s cheeks turned from pink to red. “F-forget I said anything, Captain!” and he hurriedly ducked into the water and splashed away, a streak of blue from his shorts—  
  
But not before Haddock dove beneath the water and swam after him, reaching out through the current and catching hold of his wrist, pulling the two of them close together so that Tintin whirled around in a stream of bubbles, surprise in his eyes as Haddock leaned forward and brought down his lips.  
  
Except for the beating of his heart, loud and nervous and amplified by a tenfold, all was quiet as the water muffled the entire world, engulfing him within its waves, as Haddock cupped Tintin’s face and deepened the kiss. Time seemed to fade away, as if pausing only for the two of them, stretching this moment into a moment of eternity as Haddock poured everything from his heart into this single breath.  
  
When at last they broke through the surface, panting and coughing with water dripping down their faces, Haddock folded the lad into his arms. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “for letting me be that special someone.”  
  
“Oh, Captain, I—” Tintin hiccuped a small sob, all tears and smiles as he allowed himself to rest in Haddock’s hold, “There’s never been anyone except you.”  
  
Haddock touched their foreheads together. “I could say the same, lad.”  
  
And Tintin hid his face deeper into Haddock’s chest. “All my life I’ve been on my own, and of course I had Snowy, but...something was always missing. Like a puzzle piece that just wouldn’t be found no matter how hard I looked, but then I met you and—”  
  
“Blistering barnacles,” Haddock chuckled and ruffled his hair, “is this part of your wedding vows? Because you know my poor old heart couldn’t possibly handle all the emotions a second time when that day comes.”  
  
Tintin gave a little laugh. “Oh, very well. I suppose I could wait just a little longer to tell you how much you mean to me.” And he stood on tiptoes to peck Haddock’s cheek. “What do you say we head on home now, Captain, and begin planning for that day?”  
  
Haddock kissed the top of his head. “I think I would like that very much.”  
  
And so, after towelling off and pulling on their clothes, Haddock and Tintin left the hot spring, warm and glowing from all the things they still haven’t said, but knowing in their hearts they would have the rest of their lives to put them into words. And from their intertwining hands, two identical rings, silver with a ripple of ocean waves flowing endlessly in an eternal loop, shimmered almost like water crystals underneath the blue Belgian sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, the challenge comes to a close ✨✨
> 
> Aahhh thank you everyone for sticking around this long!! I'm really so grateful for everyone who's read, liked, and commented ^^ It means the world to me knowing you took the time to read these little fics (and putting up with my bad jokes 😂), and you guys always motivate me more than you know!! To try my best and improve a little each day, and I honestly couldn't have completed this whole thing without you guys 😆😭😭
> 
> So thank you, again, for being here and allowing me to share these stories with you all. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing :)
> 
> And now...I think I'm gonna take a little break from writing and be back in a while, because my brain has just about run dry and needs some rest before diving in again 😅 So I guess I'll see you guys in a few weeks?
> 
> But until then - take care and stay well, guys!! 💙


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